


The Legend of Bumi

by MadeNightwing



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-09-28 11:10:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 70,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10097036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadeNightwing/pseuds/MadeNightwing
Summary: It can be a difficult task for a son to live up to the legacy of his father. For the the non-bending child of the Avatar it seems almost impossible. Yet the deeds of Bumi may one day be told with the same awe as the Legend of Aang.





	1. The Airbender's Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of the Avatar's children were never destined to be an easy. To be the eldest was to be the first to learn it.

The Legend of Bumi

Chapter One: The Airbender’s Son

 

_Earth, Fire, Air, Water. Long ago, my father told me how the bending arts were tied into a person’s essence, their spirit. That was why someone might not have the ability to bend even though their very twin might be an accomplished bender. My father is a wise man, but sometimes I think that he might have gotten it wrong. For if the ability to bend is linked with the spirit, then his older brother Bumi should have been born as a powerful one, for he had enough spirit for twenty men._

 

**-TLoB-**

 

There are certain things accepted in a big city to be clockwork: the rhythm of the buses, happy hour, and the occasional jettison of some unruly drunk from the window of a bar onto some pavement somewhere. These were the things that one learned to accept in their lives, to the point that one bus or the other, or one drunk or the other, would pass by with barely a blink and retreat smoothly into the background noise of the world.

 

It was somewhat rarer for two men to be thrown out of the same bar, one after the other, but hardly something to look up from the Pai Sho match to notice. For long, anyway.

 

When the third man came sailing out into the mud with a cry of alarm, things began to get more interesting. Now that they were paying attention, the alley residents could hear the sound of bottles being smashed, furniture turning to splinters, angry shouts followed by jets of flame or water, and to top it off there was a loud and booming howl coming from inside the bar, like something from the spirit world had decided to show up for happy hour.

 

Card dealers, other kinds of dealers, and vagabonds alike all looked at each other in complete bewilderment.

 

Inside the bar, Bumi was having the time of his life. Uncorking another bottle he thrust it between his teeth and swallowed heavily. “Now that’s the secret when fighting firebenders, you know. Firebending all comes from the breath, so you just have to make sure it’s hard for them to get.”

 

Kya applauded him enthusiastically from the one undamaged table in the bar, laughing uproariously at the firebender choking in Bumi’s headlock. “Get him, Boo!”

 

“Take it easy, Sparkles.” Bumi grinned. “Got to quench my thirst first.” He sculled the remainder of his drink, then tossed the bottle aside with a long and hearty belch. “Now then!”

 

Gripping the firebender by the back of his belt, Bumi took a run up and hurled him out the window and into the street. He turned around, his hands held up high. “And the winner is Bumi! The unconquered champion of Republic City!”

 

“Yay!” Kya danced from tabletop to tabletop. “Bumi! Bumi! Bumi!”

 

“What’s going on here?” An outraged voice demanded. A portly man had charged through the door, half a dozen toughs at his back. “What the hell did you kids do to my bar?”

 

Bumi and Kya froze and exchanged glances, guilty as sin.

 

“I’ll make you little brats- _oof_!” The man had summoned a ball of water from a flask at his side. Kya had extended her hand in a sweeping motion, grabbed the puddles of alcohol from the pavers and blasted him and his cronies backwards back out the door.

 

“Kya, hop on!” Bumi ordered, His little sister leapt from the table, landing on his back as Bumi leapt out the broken window. “Let’s beat it!”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

“Mom is going to be so mad.” Kya lurched against Bumi with another giggle. “I bet she really thought she had you cornered that time.”

 

“Once again, she missed a hole in her logic.” Bumi announced proudly. “She said not to misbehave _for_ Uncle Sokka. She just didn’t specify that we couldn’t misbehave on the way home.”

 

Kya frowned. Though Bumi was always the one responsible for their little ‘outings’, she still felt a little guilty for always going along with him. “To be fair, she did say come straight home after the theatre.”

 

“Yes, and that bar is on the fastest route to the ferry.” Bumi countered. “Once more I prove that a dizzying intellect is a match for any bending.”

 

Suddenly the two of them were hauled into the air by their ears, and a voice they knew well rang out like the hiss of the Face-Stealer. “See, it’s not that particular statement itself that I object to. It’s just that you need to _have_ a dizzying intellect first.”

 

Necks stretched out like turkey-vultures, they found themselves twisted around. Uncle Sokka’s easy smile greeted them. “Well. Hello there.”

 

“Please Uncle, don’t turn us over to Auntie Toph.” Bumi begged. It suddenly felt like a raptor-boa was wrapping itself around his neck. “She’ll put me right back on street sweeping. Remember last time?”

 

“Last week, you mean?” Uncle Sokka grinned. “As an upstanding member of the City Council _and_ a personal friend of the Chief of Police, I should of course turn in the two little vandals I caught mere minutes after they smashed up a bar and dropped a dozen grown men and women in their tracks…but as your beloved Uncle I too understand the desire to smash up a Triad bar and throw a little booze in the face of some goons.”

 

They sighed with relief. “Thanks, Uncle,” Kya said.

 

“But thinking you could outsmart your mother after making her a solemn promise?” Sokka continued, and fear leapt back into their throats. “That I have to punish. If only so you’ll be smarter next time.”

 

It wasn’t the first time Uncle Sokka had marched the both of them back to the ferry for Air Temple Island. Kya’s first memory of it was when she was eight and she and Bumi had made a daring break for freedom after being grounded for a particularly spectacular prank pulled on Air Acolyte Wei Xin during his meditations. Intending to seek out Great Uncle Iroh in Ba-Sing Sae, they’d made a successful escape to the mainland and been halfway to the railroad before their uncle intercepted them. It felt as humiliating eight years later as it did back then.

 

And like back then, Dad was waiting at the terminal, wearing an expression that spelled doom.

 

It wasn’t an angry expression, oh no. Dad never got angry and that was the worst thing. Mom would occasionally lose her temper, reprimand the two of them severely and then feel bad about it later and bring them hot chocolate. Dad would have a goofy smile on his face that indicated he’d just thought up some spectacularly amusing punishment that would send even solemn Tenzin into gales of laughter and make Mom’s lips twitch with something dangerously close to a smile at their expense. Even Fire Lord Zuko, when he visited, would offer sage advice to them as they personally swept the Path of Peace (without a broom), or refilled the Pool of Tranquillity (without waterbending).

 

If Kya thought about it, she could tell that Dad actually enjoyed their little breakouts as much as he did coming up with a challenging, yet thoughtful, reprimand for their misdeeds. Certainly he always spent more time with them afterwards, explaining the point of their useless punishment before giving them the afternoon off to go wind-surfing in the harbour, the wind provided by him personally. It was as much of a bonding activity as Tenzin’s field trips.

 

Dad wasn’t in his usual robes tonight. Instead he wore a grey suit that brought out his twinkling eyes. “Well, what have you dragged out of the alley, Sokka?”

 

“Aang, you won’t believe it, but I actually caught your darling children up to no good after they left my place. Which I wouldn’t mind if they hadn’t given their solemn word to be upright citizens for tonight.” Uncle Sokka said, presenting them like they were a pair of naughty toddlers. “Please have mercy on them. They share some of my blood, and you’ve seen what it does to me.”

 

Dad looked down on them in that mock serious way he had. “I see. And what do you two have to say for yourselves?”

 

Kya immediately took the lead. Her lips pouting and her eyes wide, she stepped in front of Bumi. “Don’t be too hard on him, Dad. I just said I felt it was sad that the Triads have taken so much territory in the last year. Bumi tried to cheer me up by knocking over a few of those bullies.”

 

“Well, I’m always a fan of knocking over bullies.” Dad offered Bumi a grin. “It was very considerate of you to try and make your sister feel better, Bumi.”

 

Bumi gave a weak shrug, trying to avoid looking Dad straight in the eye. “Thanks, Dad.”

 

It was the wrong move. Dad’s stance shifted slightly, his head cocked to one side in that manner that Kya knew all too well was his way of sniffing through the air currents around them. When he spoke, Dad’s voice was suddenly, dangerously, calm. “Kya. Why is there alcohol on your breath?”

 

 _Oh boy_. Kya took a deep breath, about to answer, but Bumi stepped in first. “It’s my fault, Dad. I suggested the bar for a drink, not for beating up Triads. It just escalated a little after a couple…”

 

Dad didn’t get angry, he never got angry, but his eyes did narrow suddenly. “You took your sister into a Triad bar? And you let her…Kya, go wait by the ferry.”

 

Kya shot a furtive glance to Bumi, trying to convey _please don’t make it worse_ with her eyes. Bumi slouched down further, his eyes falling to Dad’s kneecaps as his father loomed over him. Dad needn’t have bothered sending her to the far side of the jetty, Kya could hear everything anyway.

 

“…and giving your sister alcohol would be hypocritical of me. Sokka used to sneak a bottle of wine out of one feast or another when I was as young as all of you, and we certainly split our fair share of brandy with Toph at her school. Not to mention the reunions we had at Zuko’s place.” Dad began in his usual, understanding tone. “But taking her into a Triad bar? You know they’re getting more violent as they recruit more benders. Kya could handle herself sober, but drunk?”

 

“I know, Dad.” Bumi nodded dutifully.

 

“And you’re not even a bender. How are you supposed to fight off an angry Triad if you pick the wrong…”

 

Bumi suddenly snapped. “I know I’m not a bender! I’m only reminded of it every single day!”

 

Dad paused, suddenly taken aback. “Bumi, I didn’t mean…I’m just disappointed in you for endangering…”

 

“Didn’t mean what? That I’m not like Kya or precious Tenzin? The only non-bender in a whole family of them. Gee, Dad, sorry for disappointing you, again.” Bumi gave a sarcastic half bow. “Maybe you should have done what they used to do in the old Fire Nation and given me up at an orphanage. Reason on the note? ‘Can’t bend like his parents’.”

 

Dad was indignant, about as wrathful as he ever got with his children. “You’re being ridiculous, Bumi. I’ve never been angry at you for not being an airbender.”

 

“No, just disappointed.” Bumi countered. “I saw it in your eyes the day you accepted I wouldn’t be a ‘late bloomer’. You wanted an airbending child and all you got was me!”

 

Kya was stunned, Dad was poleaxed, even Uncle Sokka had lost his perpetual grin. Sokka was the one to recover his voice first. “Bumi, what’s come over you? Surely you can see your Dad’s just being…”

 

“I’m quite capable of looking after my own son, Sokka.” The warning note in Dad’s voice made Uncle Sokka freeze. As suddenly as it had appeared, the agitation Dad had shown had dissipated. Once again he was cool and calm, but without his smile this time. “Bumi, you’ve clearly had a little too much to drink. I suggest you take a walk whilst I take your sister home. We can speak more on the next ferry.”

 

Bumi glared at him. “Don’t bother catching the one back here, I’ll stay the night in the city. I’m eighteen now, I don’t need to follow you home.”

 

“So you are.” Dad’s voice had a sarcastic edge to it. “I’ll see you in the morning, Bumi.”

 

They turned and walked away from each other, each one cold and aloof, each one radiating wounded pride and a sudden pain that made Kya wince on their behalf. For a moment she wanted to stand up and seize both of them, make them apologise and make things right. But the dizziness that had been threatening her since the bar finally set in and she settled down comfortably on the bench next to the ferry, confident that Dad would wake her when it was time to go home.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

Bumi had once asked Fire Lord Zuko how he had dealt with having a more talented sibling in the family. It hadn’t been the most tactful question, but then he hadn’t been a tactful child at twelve. As he remembered it, it was just after Tenzin had proudly demonstrated his mastery of the spinning gates in front of Auntie Toph, Uncle Sokka and Uncle Zuko himself. Bumi had looked on gloomily, he and Kya practically forgotten in the enthusiasm surrounding Tenzin.

 

Uncle Zuko had seemed to understand after he overcame his surprise. He’d taken Bumi aside after the demonstration, kneeling down to talk to him at his level.

 

 _“It can be a challenge, dealing with someone who has more raw talent than you.”_ He confessed, not hiding the truth from Bumi. _“When my sister Azula and I were little she outshone me at everything. Languages, courtesies, history and nearly everything else. And firebending. She was always so much better at firebending than I was. I didn’t hate her, but I resented her. And I know that you resent Tenzin.”_

The harsh truth had made Bumi hang his head in shame. But Uncle Zuko had been understanding him, not condemning him. _“I learned to reconcile my negative feelings toward Azula with my positive ones. I haven’t seen her in decades, not after her last plot failed, but I still love her and always will, even if I never get the chance to see her again. If you look a little deeper, you’ll find that you love Tenzin far more than you resent him, and that your parents love you all no matter what your talents. Your father may have his flaws, but he’s far better than mine.”_

“Not exactly a high bar to get over.” Bumi muttered to himself, turning his mind back to the street. His anger had begun to fade after three blocks of walking and now he just felt woozy from the beer and guilty for yelling at Dad. Then his guilt turned back to anger when he remembered Dad’s frustrated grimace, then back to guilt again when he remembered the distress on Kya’s face. He’d rather have hacked off his own hand than cause his little sister pain. The anger bloomed in him again at Dad’s implication that he would have let any harm come to her.

 

Frustration and resentment bubbled and churned in his gut and he kicked up the dirt in the road with a muttered curse. The real problem here was that he was only half drunk, not well and truly splattered. For a brief second he considered going back to the Triad bar to bust some more heads, then decided against it. Dad was right about one thing, there was no point fighting Triad benders drunk.

 

His wandering feet eventually brought him to the _Thirsty Otter-Weasel_ , a watering hole for Southern Water Tribe expats that Uncle Sokka had introduced him to on his eighteenth birthday…well, a few days before it anyway. Bumi had always suspected, in private, that Uncle Sokka’s love of the place had stemmed less from the quality of its drinks and more from the wild cheer that went up from the fishers and sailors whenever the greatest hero (second greatest whenever Mother was around) of the South wandered in for an ice cold beer.

 

Bumi liked the _Ottsel_. Liked the cool air from the ice sculptures that the bartender would bend at the bar. Liked the trophies from the owner’s old hunts and battles that lined the walls. He liked to listen to the stories from the sailors in from a long voyage, his mother’s people sharing their stories in their native tongue rather than the more universal Northern Earth Kingdom mixed with Fire Nation idioms that everyone used in Republic City. He felt himself calm down almost as soon as he set foot inside. Here was almost better than home on Air Temple Island. There was no Dad to bother him with a lecture on serenity here, and no simpering Air Acolytes to complain about him disturbing their meditations. Mom wouldn’t come in and ask him to help with the garden, Tenzin wouldn’t disturb him asking for stories and wrestling matches and even Kya couldn’t ask him to take her on a shopping trip in the city.

 

The _Ottsel_ was his own place, and he liked it that way. A home away from home when he needed his space. Uncle Sokka seemed to understand, which was why he never seemed to come around whenever Bumi was drinking.

 

The bartender greeted him with his customary smile and a broad laugh. “Bumi! What brings you down here on such a night?”

 

“Just looking for a drink, Jem.” Bumi gestured toward the bottles behind the bar. “Could I get an iced spice rum?”

 

The bartender gave a whistle. “A little stronger than your usual brew, eh?”

 

Bumi didn’t think he could handle another lecture tonight. “Just the drink, please.”

 

The bartender poured a full measure into a glass as cold as ice. “What’s got you hitting the bottle so hard tonight then, lad?”

 

“I might be fed up with drinking at home? Why do you care?”

 

The bartender gave a shrug, even as he smiled. “It’s not of my business, I know. Ah, but still, I know a thing or two about being a young man still trying to pull away from my father’s shadow. Did I ever tell you the story of when I was caught in the Great South Passage in between a hurricane and the biggest white whale you ever did see? Now that was a story for the ages. We’d been caught flatfooted after the great beast destroyed the biggest of our ships, the old…”

 

Bumi had never expected to be so grateful to a group of strangers in his life, but when the commotion at the entry of the bar interrupted the tender’s story and a swarm of men and women in blue uniforms filed in surrounded by a buzz of conversation and roars of raucous laughter he could have kissed each and every one of them.

 

“Barkeep!” The leader of the group, a tall man as broad as half the bar, strode up to the bench and dropped a coin pouch on it. “Drinks for my crew! Beer, fire whiskey and your best rum, if you please.”

 

Jem cracked a smile. “Well, Captain, it looks as though you survived another voyage.”

 

“To everyone’s disappointment, I’m sure.” The burly captain took the seat next to Bumi. “There some narrow scrapes in there, to be sure. Pirates off the north coast of the Fire Nation, and an arctic sea-serpent just before we reached the Northern Water Tribe. But the _Winter Dragon_ always comes through, you can be sure of that.”

 

Bumi looked up from his drink, suddenly interested. “The _Winter Dragon_? You’re Captain Amaruq?”

 

“That’s me, lad.” The man said, sparing him a brief glance. “Amaruq of the Southern Water Tribe, captain of the _Winter Dragon_ , the fastest frigate in the United Forces. I’m guessing you’ve heard of our exploits.”

 

“Have I?” Bumi felt excitement welling inside him. “I…sir, you’re a living legend.”

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” Amaruq chuckled. “Maybe a few stories are told about me every now and then, but legends are for far greater men than a simple frigate captain.”

 

Bumi shook his head. “No sir. Your actions defeating the warlords in the eastern seas have had their own songs written about them here in Republic City.”

 

“Well, if it isn’t nice to be appreciated.” Amaruq gave him a friendly smile. “What’s your name, lad?”

 

“Bumi, sir.”

 

“Bumi.” Amaruq savoured the name. “Good name. Strong name. But that’s an Earth Kingdom name, and you have the look of the Water Tribe about you.”

 

“My mother was Southern Water Tribe, sir.” Bumi explained. “But my father…he had a good friend in the Earth Kingdom named Bumi. Named me after him.”

 

“Any name’s a good one, lad, as long as you make it your own.” The captain turned back to the bartender. “Jem, give me another drink for my new friend here.”

 

The rums arrived and Bumi drank deeply, draining it to its ice cubes before the captain had downed half his dram. Amaruq seemed to savour his rum, smacking his lips appreciatively before he set it down again. “So, Bumi, what does a strapping young lad like yourself do for your daily bread here in Republic City?”

 

 _‘Part time babysitter, full time nuisance.’_ Bumi thought ruefully. “Unemployed, sir. But my father usually finds ways to keep me busy. Running errands, that kind of thing. I think he has dreams of sending me to an academy in Ba-Sing Sae or the Fire Nation.”

 

Amaruq cocked an eye. “From your expression I’d say you’re not in favour of the idea?”

 

Bumi hesitated. Arguing with Dad was one thing, part of him felt off talking about it with a stranger. But then again, Captain Amaruq had just bought him a drink. That made him a friend in Bumi’s mind. “No, sir. I don’t know exactly what I want in life, but more schooling isn’t part of it.”

 

Amaruq considered his reply, seemingly chewing it over as he took another sip of his drink. “Then what _do_ you want, Bumi? You don’t seem to be looking for work, and it seems you’re already set on disappointing your father on your education. Clearly you can’t stay in a bar for the rest of your life, so what do you want?”

 

For a moment Bumi was struck dumb. He paused to take a sip of the next drink, which turned into drinking the whole thing. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”

 

“Well I’m asking.” Amaruq was studying him intensely. “Tell me, lad. And be truthful.”

 

Bumi studied the empty glass. “I want something…different. I…I don’t even care what it is at this point. Work, study, travel, adventures, the details don’t interest me. But I want it to surprise me, for life to take me by the collar and toss me into the thick of it. That’s where I’m comfortable, that’s where I’m having fun.”

 

He looked back up to see Amaruq’s hand disappearing inside his jacket. For some reason the captain now had a pleased smile on his face. “Truth be told, I was hoping you’d say that, lad. So it’s the unexpected you want, is it? Damn good to hear, damn good indeed. Jem! Another round!”

 

Bumi went to pick up a glass and almost spilled some. “Perhaps this should be my last. I’m feeling a bit…”

 

“Nonsense, Bumi.” Amaruq clinked glasses cheerily. “We need to drink to your good fortune.”

 

Bumi wasn’t exactly sure what good fortune the captain was referring to, but he drank nonetheless. The rum tasted a bit odd, a bit sweeter than normal. Still, he cheerily downed it and turned to the next one. “What shall we drink to next?”

 

“Next?” Amaruq said, his fingers tapping the rim of the glass. “Hmm…what day is it? Ah! To a bloody war and a quick promotion!”

 

Bumi wasn’t sure he understood the toast, but he lifted his glass all the same. “A bloody war and a quick promotion!”

 

It took him longer to drain the glass this time, his stomach roiling slightly at the consumption of so much liquor so quickly. He swayed on his seat. He heard Jem’s voice as if at a distance. “Have you had enough, Bumi?”

 

“Enough?” The captain laughed. “The lad’s just hitting his stride. Another round! To our ships at sea and friendly harbours!”

 

“Ships at sea…” Bumi slurred half the toast before slurping down the next glass. The swaying became more pronounced and he felt himself falling. Strong arms grabbed him as his chair toppled over and there was another laugh, whether from Amaruq or his crew he couldn’t tell.

 

“Give him here.” He heard Jem’s voice again. “He can sleep it off in the back.”

 

“Rubbish.” He heard Amaruq declare. “The lad just needs some fresh air. Oy, Nuniq, take the boy outside and let him get it out of his system.”

 

“Aye, Captain.” A cheery woman’s voice answered the order. “Come on, Maliq, Nini, help me with him.”

 

Bumi was half walked, half carried out into the street, then back into an alley. He closed his eyes as they lowered him to the ground. From above he heard muffled giggles, followed by a reproachful sigh.

 

“I thought the Captain said we were done for the night after the last bar.” A man stated, his tone disagreeable. “At this rate we’ll be on half rations before we resupply.”

 

“Oh don’t be dramatic, it’s only two days sailing till drop off.” The first woman stated. “Besides, at least this one’s got a little promise about him. Did you see how many drinks it took to finish him off after the captain slipped him the goodnight kiss? He’s got a bit of grit about him, that’s for sure.”

 

“All this work for a non-bender?” A third voice complained. “And he’s so big. I won’t be able to carry him like the last ones.”

 

“Then find a barrow.” The woman’s voice was patient, but strained. “Maliq, the sack.”

 

Bumi was beginning to find the whole experience entirely disagreeable. At this point he’d drunk his fill and just wanted to head to Uncle Sokka’s apartment. But when he tried to stand up he found his legs would not comply. Instead, someone lifted up his shoulders and in an instant he found his head and shoulders encased in rough burlap. He gave an exasperated sigh and decided to go to sleep, resting his head as comfortably as he could on the edge of whatever they had lifted him into and drifted into peaceful oblivion.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

He woke up to pain. The worst pain he’d ever felt, though admittedly it wasn’t a vast selection. His head felt like someone had used his skull as a drum, and someone must have been pouring sand down his throat for it to be so dry.

 

“Hey, he’s awake.” A thin and reedy voice cut through his consciousness like a particularly sharp knife. “Hey, buddy, are you alright?”

 

“Ughhhh….”

 

“Pardon? Did you say something?”

 

“Give over, Yoshi.” An irritated voice cut the first one off. “Poor guy just wants to sleep.”

 

No…no that wasn’t what he wanted. “Wat…wat-water…”

 

“Oh, water.” The second voice was suddenly apologetic. “I’m sorry. Here.”

 

He cracked his eyes open as someone helped him up and held a pitcher to his lips. He drank eagerly, thirst overcoming the awful, brackish taste of the liquid passing over his dried out tongue. Now swimming back to sobriety, he took in the measure of his surroundings. He was in a room. A room with steel walls and a steel roof and a steel floor. There were some chairs and table in the centre of the room, also steel. The bunks, too, were the same steel, and the mattress and pillow may as well have been slightly softer iron.

 

“Am I in lock-up?” Was the first question that reached his lips. It wouldn’t be the first time that a boozy night landed him here.

 

The one giving him water, a bearded man with sharp eyes and a crooked nose, grunted apologetically. “If only, friend. We’d already be out by now if we were. Can’t you hear that?”

 

If his throat had allowed it, Bumi would have asked what the hell he was meant to be listening for. Since his throat didn’t allow it he just listened instead. He heard it in an instant. The low, dull thrum that couldn’t have been anything but an engine. And since there were no clacks of wheels on a track…

 

“We’re on a ship?” Bumi sat straight up, then winced again as pain shot up behind his eyes. “What ship?”

 

Beard-Face nodded. “We’re on a ship alright. What ship? Well, I think you’ll figure that one out in a few minutes.”

 

“A few…”

 

The door to the room crashed open and the cheery woman from the night before walked in. “Alright, boys and girls. Captain says we’re far enough away that you can take a stroll on the deck. Now, you can jump overboard if you like, just remember that none of you are water-benders and it’ll likely take you more than a day to swim back to the mainland. If you want to take that risk, be my guest. Otherwise, take it easy and treat this like the pleasure cruise it is.”

 

“Come on.” Beard-Face helped Bumi up from the bunk. “You need some fresh air and some sun. I know what they got you with, lying around doesn’t help it.”

 

Bumi was too weak to argue, so he allowed himself to be stood up and guided out of the cabin, down a corridor and up a staircase onto the deck. The blast of salt air that hit his face as soon as he stepped out into the open air was too much. He staggered away from his helper to the rail and leaned over.

 

The rum had been as sweet as lemonade going down, it tasted like liquid fire coming back up.

 

“Got it out of your system, friend?” Beard-Face patted him gently on the back. Bumi retched again in reply.

 

“That’s it, lad!” A familiar jovial voice made itself known. “Bring it all up. Rum is good, but mix it with Goodnight’s Kiss and its better off leaving it on the outside. Bring it up, I say!”

 

Bumi whipped around. “You!”

 

Captain Amaruq smiled from ear to ear. “So, Bumi, how are you finding your first adventure?”

 

“Adventure?” Bumi choked out. “You just kidnapped me.”

 

Amaruq looked hurt. “I? An honourable officer of the United Forces kidnap anyone? I’m shocked at your accusation. Technically, Bumi, you have been pressed into service with the United Forces.”

 

“A press gang?” Bumi snarled. “That’s illegal.”

 

“Not illegal just yet.” Beard-Face said, inserting himself in the conversation from where he was leaning against a railing. “Just very, very frowned upon. The RCPD started posting guards on the docks near naval vessels a few years ago to prevent civilians from being taken onboard against their will. But for the right price, RCPD officers will let you take sacks of ‘potatoes’ onboard without inspection.”

 

Bumi stared at him. “Whose side are you on?”

 

“Ah, and what a heavy sack of potatoes you turned out to be.” Amaruq interjected. “Maliq was complaining all morning, he thinks he’s thrown out his back.”

 

Bumi grunted. “Good. I want off.”

 

Amaruq gestured to the ocean. “Be my guest. Can you swim well?”

 

Bumi glanced toward the stern. He could still see the outline of Republic City on the horizon. “Take me back to the harbour.”

 

“Can’t do that, lad.” Amaruq said, and his voice dropped to an apologetic pitch, not that Bumi believed in his sincerity. “I’m on a schedule. The _Dragon’s_ due for a refit at one of the UF drydocks in the Fire Nation, and I’m due to resupply and drop off a parcel of recruits on Dragon Koi Island before that.”

 

“Dragon Koi Island.” Bumi repeated.

 

“That’s right, Bumi.” The captain nodded. “It’s grand, isn’t it? Being swept off your feet into a new life? Feels _different_ , doesn’t it?”

 

Bumi swung a fist at the man’s jaw. Either the rum was still slowing him down or Amaruq was faster than his huge frame suggested, but either way Bumi found himself flat on his back with a stinging ear.

 

Amaruq didn’t sound the least bit angry. “Poor lad, I’m always a bit irritable after a big night out as well. Take him along to the galley and get some grub down his throat.”

 

Beard-Face gave an awkward salute. “Yes, sir.”

 

Bumi found himself helped back to his feet by his new…caretaker? Jailer? Beard-Face wasn’t wearing a uniform, but he seemed far more willing to be on the ship than any of the other scowling men and women on the deck around him. For the moment, he decided to follow his lead. At least until he’d had something to eat.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

‘Grub’ turned out to be surprisingly good. Bumi had read, or rather listened to Kya reading, his fair share of naval dramas. In Kya’s stories, whether romances or stories of adventure, the crew dined on well-salted meat and hard ship’s biscuit, the stale diet supplemented only with rum and lemon juice to keep down scurvy.

 

Instead, breakfast was simple bacon and eggs with fresh noodles and a heap of mushrooms and fried potatoes. When he pointed that out to Beard-Face, the man simply shrugged.

 

“My dad told me that when the United Forces were formed the first thing the Fire Nation officers did was to find out if waterbenders could preserve perishable foods in cool rooms for long trips. Nowadays, the crew can eat fresh for several months before they even think about dipping into the preserved rations.”

 

Bumi paused in scooping up another mouthful of runny egg. “Your dad was United Forces?”

 

Beard-Face nodded. “He served with the Fire Nation Navy toward the end of the Hundred Year War. He was one of the few survivors from the Siege of the North. When Fire Lord Zuko and Avatar Aang founded the United Republic he volunteered to help found the military. Commanded his own ship for ten years before they moved him to Central Command.”

 

Bumi paused. “Your dad’s an Admiral? But…how did you get press-ganged?”

 

Beard-Face paused. He suddenly looked very awkward. “I didn’t. I volunteered…well, kind of.”

 

Bumi waited to see if there was any more. Beard-Face waited as well. Bumi decided not to press it. His fork clattered to the table as he extended his hand. “I’m Bumi.”

 

Beard-Face’s grip was firm and dry. “Hanzo. You a Republic City boy?”

 

“Born and raised.” Bumi confirmed. “You?”

 

“The same.” Hanzo nodded. “What borough?”

 

“Air Temple Island.”

 

Hanzo whistled. “Your parents are Air Acolytes?”

 

“I…yeah, something like that.” Bumi half considered telling him the truth, but the real names of his parents froze on his tongue at the last second. He hadn’t advertised his birth back in Republic City, it seemed hypocritical to try and do so now. “So, who else got yanked onboard with us?”

 

“Well, you see those two? The brother and sister?” Hanzo gestured to the two Earth Kingdom siblings chatting over their food. “Shin and Lin. I think Shin was the only one actually pressed, Lin found out at the last second and decided to enlist voluntarily, there was no time to try and get him out of it. They brought those three, Edano, Yoshi and Koga in about an hour before you, pulled them out of some kind of barfight. That older guy? Hahn, I think? He’s actually a veteran of the Hundred Year War, Northern Water Tribe Navy. The captain got him drunk and convinced him to re-enlist ‘in memory of beloved Princess Yue’.”

 

“Bet he regretted that in the morning.” Bumi said.

 

“Actually he cheered up a fair bit after a chat with the captain. I think he’s missed being a sailor.” Hanzo said. “Some people are born to take orders, I think. They prefer it when their own choices are taken out of their hands, put towards ‘the greater good’. Why else would someone willingly give up their freedom?”

 

“Why would you?” Bumi shot back. “You said you volunteered.”

 

Hanzo smiled bitterly. “As I said, _willingly_ give up their freedom.”

 

Bumi had been confused enough for one morning. He ate the rest of his meal in silence before walking back up to the deck. They’d been travelling for less than an hour, and already Republic City had long faded from silhouette to shadow. None of the crew paid him any mind as he walked to the stern and tried to do the calculations in his head.

 

He may not have been a waterbender, but he _was_ half Water Tribe. Mom had taught him how to swim almost before he could walk, and he’d even been able to give Kya a run for her money in their races (even when she cheated with waterbending). The longest he’d ever swam was a five hour circuit of the harbour to win a bet with Auntie Toph. Distance wise, he was confident he could make it all the way back to Republic City. But a calm harbour was not the same as a rolling ocean. He’d expend more energy fighting currents and the tide, and there’d be no Kya keeping a wary eye out in case he got tired and started to sink.

 

He closed his eyes and tried to suppress the sudden wave of guilt. Dad would have gone to Uncle Sokka’s this morning to find him and apologise. But he wouldn’t have been there. Dad would have gone to Auntie Toph to see if he’d stayed there, then all the houses of his friends. By now Dad would have gotten worried and asked Toph to start putting out feelers with her officers. They wouldn’t find him. Mom would be beside herself with worry and Kya would be frantic. Tenzin would start picking up on the mood sooner or later. And it was all his fault.

 

“Catching one last look at home, Bumi?” Captain Amaruq’s good cheer was the last thing Bumi needed, but he didn’t exactly have a choice. For the moment, trying to escape was pointless and trying to fight would land him flat on his back. Bumi had never been scared of a fight, but punching the giant captain was a sure way to wind up flat on his back or in the brig.

 

He looked at Amaruq. “My family will be looking for me.”

 

“And that’s a beautiful thing.” The captain said. His head cocked to the right, his eyes almost misty as he considered the waves. “Hell, my father was damn near insane with worry when I signed on with the UF without his permission. Really helped me patch things up when I got my first leave, knowing he’d been so concerned about me. Up until then I thought he couldn’t have cared less about me.”

 

Bumi tried a different angle. “Look, Captain. I…I kind of left things in a bad shape with my dad. With my sister and little brother too, if I think about it. I can’t just leave things as they were.”

 

“In that case this is the best possible thing. A few months of basic training will give everyone time to cool down. You can make a real fresh start with them.”

 

Bumi suddenly wished he’d paid more attention to how Kya twisted Mom and Dad around her little finger. If she was in this situation she’d probably have Amaruq half in tears and steaming back to Republic City at full speed. “My uncle’s a regular at the bar. It’s only a matter of time before Jem tells him what happened.”

 

The captain shook his head. “I’m afraid we’ve taken so many new recruits out of the _Thirsty Otter-Weasel_ over the years that Jem could probably crew his own ship with them. Trust me, he’s accustomed to turning a blind eye.”

 

His last ditch bubbled up Bumi’s throat before he could stop it. “My Dad’s the Avatar.”

 

“Sure he is, son.” Amaruq patted his shoulder sympathetically. “And I’m sure your mother is Princess Yue and your sister is Toph Beifong.”

 

Bumi slumped over the railing, momentarily defeated. Amaruq clicked his tongue a little. “You’re not the first impressed recruit that tried to talk their way back to shore. Truth be told, I don’t think anyone’s tried quite so hard in recent memory. You don’t give up easy, do you?”

 

Bumi didn’t answer. Amaruq glanced up at the United Forces ensign hanging off the flagstaff hanging off the stern, as if searching for answers. “You must think I’m a real heartless bastard right now, eh?”

 

Bumi hoped his glare conveyed the appropriate anger. Amaruq had the good grace to look sheepish. “Look, I’m not exactly proud of what I did to you. Normally I try and give a good recruiting speech, really sell the dream of uniformed life. That, or I find those who don’t have much of a choice. You were a special case.”

 

“Special?” Bumi looked at him incredulously. “I was half drunk and moping in a bar. You probably _could_ have recruited me if you’d just asked!”

 

“I don’t think so.” Amaruq shook his head. “I think you were still too fixed in place. It’s not healthy for a fit young man like you to still be moping around your home town, arguing with your parents and drinking at shady bars. You needed a clean break, to be ‘surprised’ like you wanted. It may take some time, and you’ll never thank me, but you’ll see I was right eventually.”

 

Bumi looked at him. His voice was cold. “The only thing that’ll happen ‘eventually’, Captain, is that I’ll learn whatever I need to learn to punch that smug grin off your face.”

 

Said grin returned in full force as the Captain slapped him on the back so hard it nearly sent him overboard. “By the Moon, Bumi, I do believe you just might. Some day. Some very far off day.”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

The frigate’s crew had increased their activity exponentially before dawn on the third day. As the sun rose, Bumi found himself bustled along with the other new recruits to the starboard bow. He had barely enough time to rub the sleep out of his eyes before a rating shoved a roll in his hand and pointed off into the distance where Bumi could make out the outline of a fast approaching shore.

 

“Whole crew is prepping for stores loading, Cap’n wants you here out of the way.” She informed them curtly before she departed. “You’ll be offloaded onto Dragon Koi Island immediately, then you’re not my problem.”

 

She paused, then turned back. Bumi could make out a faint smile on her face. “One thing. A piece of good advice, really. The next four months are going to be some of the worst of your life, but we’ve all had to do them to earn our place in the UF. Keep your heads down and try not to talk. They really hate the noisy ones.”

 

Who really hated what noisy ones? Bumi suddenly had many urgent questions that needed answering. What was Dragon Koi Island and why had he never heard of it? What was recruit training like? Could he please send a telegram to Air Temple Island? It was important.

 

Though the dock approached at an alarming rate the crew didn’t seem to be panicking. It suddenly struck Bumi that the ship was moving normally, it was just his own time that was speeding up.

 

The crunch of a crust drew his head around. Hanzo had taken a large bite of his bread whilst his eyes continued to scan the shore. On looking at his nonchalant lean and his almost-bored expression one might think he was musing over whether or not to have rice or noodles for lunch.

 

On his other side, Shin and Lin were both looking pale. Shin caught Bumi’s eye and offered him a weak smile. “You know those recruiting centres in Republic City?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I really wish I’d gone into one and had a look at what the training program was like. Maybe I wouldn’t be so damn nervous right now.” Shin said.

 

Bumi could have sighed. Out of all the recruits, Shin was the smallest and the frailest. His sister was taller and broader, and there was a fight in her eye that didn’t dim. He wondered if Amaruq had personally selected Shin like he had Bumi and bizarrely hoped he hadn’t. Only a cruel man would have played such a joke on a boy like that and Bumi hadn’t thought Amaruq to be cruel in that way.

 

“Just stick close to your sister.” He finally advised Shin. “And, if you really need a hand, just ask me.”

 

Even as Shin nodded his thanks, a new figure stepped in front of Bumi. The scowling face of the older man, the Hundred Year War veteran that Hanzo had called Hahn, met him far too close for Bumi’s personal taste. “You’ll do him no favours by coddling him, boy. Every man and woman must stand on their own two feet in battle.”

 

Bumi stepped sideways around Hahn. He had no wish to disrespect the veteran, but the man’s overbearing attitude had already gotten him into a fight with the brawling trio of Edano, Yoshi and Koga the night before. That Hahn had laid all three of them out in just a few seconds had earned Bumi’s grudging respect, but it didn’t mean he had to like him.

 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” It was a trite phrase, but for the moment Bumi had no desire to fight him. Not when they might have to spend the next four months together. Might. Dragon Koi Island might have been a military outpost, but he could see civilian ships in the harbour as well. Civilian ships that could easily make it to Republic City in three days or less.

 

The genesis of his plan had formed after Amaruq dismissed him the night before. The captain had heard every excuse and plea from involuntary recruits, so he’d said, and was immune to them. But would a civilian captain be so averse to promises of wealth and fame if he helped return the Avatar’s kidnapped son to him? Bumi had won much more on worse odds at the card tables of Republic City.

 

Hanzo had already seen where his stare lay and smiled ruefully. “If you’re thinking what I think you are, I’ll just say that the Navy pays them a bounty for any runaway-recruits they turn in.”

 

Bumi didn’t answer him. Hanzo seemed to be happy enough where he was and Bumi applauded him for that. But it wasn’t going to suffice for him. He hadn’t struggled for years against the constraints of his family only to step into worse ones now.

 

Hanzo eventually got tired of waiting and turned his eyes back to the pier. Bumi’s eyes didn’t leave a particularly sleek looking fisher in Earth-Kingdom green. He couldn’t make out the crew on the deck, but was certain they wouldn’t be averse to a pile of cash that Bumi would beg Mom on hands and knees for.

 

“They’re right next to the shore.” He murmured to himself. “I could swim out to one in a few minutes…”

 

“Pardon?” Hanzo asked.

 

“Nothing.” Bumi lied. “Just admiring the view.”

 

Hanzo shrugged. “It’s the sea. We saw it yesterday and we’ll probably see it a lot more in the future. It’s about as interesting as a field of rocks, really.”

 

That’s where he was wrong. Bumi loved the sea. Perhaps he couldn’t bend water like Mom or Kya, but he’d damn near been born with salt water in his blood. Uncle Sokka had been delighted by that fact, since it meant he’d always had an extra hand on his little sailboat that he took out whenever he got sick of the City Council, which was every week. The winds, the tides, the fish, he knew them all like the intimate friends they were. A part of him even revolted against the idea of a steam powered vessel; though he knew it was faster, it did nothing to sway his preference for a sail.

 

Before he could voice those thoughts to Hanzo, the other man had already moved off closer to where a walkway was being extended from the dock to the ship. A hand slapped Bumi on the back, he didn’t need to look to know it was Captain Amaruq. The friendly giant offered him a wide smile before gently pushing him and the rest of the recruits towards the shoreline.

 

“Now remember all the advice I gave to each of you.” Amaruq nearly shouted, for all the world like a proud father watching his children skip off to school. “Please stay in touch, send me a letter after you march out and please remember, from the bottom of my heart, any gratitude is completely unnecessary.”

 

Bumi turned to retort, tripped over Shin’s bony leg and toppled all the way down the gangplank. The quiet dam, which had been stopping up a slowly gathering flood since he’d last exhausted his rage trying to punch out Amaruq, burst again and Bumi found himself stringing together a litany of curses that would have made Uncle Sokka blush, made Mom grab him by the ear and _might_ have impressed Auntie Toph for a few seconds. He heard a disapproving sigh before he heard the voice.

 

“Up on your feet, Recruit. It doesn’t become a soldier to lay on the deck swearing.”

 

Bumi was angry enough that he would have fought ten men on the spot when he got to his feet. As he turned to face the speaker, he privately vowed that he’d drop the man on the spot.

 

That vow was promptly broken as he got his first good look at him. Clad in a neat green tunic and trousers, with spit shined boots that could have served as a decent mirror, and with a short, polished cane in his hands, the largest man Bumi had ever seen stared down at him. It wasn’t merely a case of Uncle Sokka, who was tall, or Captain Amaruq, who was broad. The Cane Man dwarfed him and would have continued to dwarf him even if Shin or Hanzo had sat on his shoulders.

 

“Fall in line, if you please, Recruit.” Cane Man addressed him with such politeness that Bumi had already stepped back before he truly registered the command. The other seven recruits had already formed a line, Bumi tacked on the end. Edano and his crew were slumping, their eyes reflecting their anger. Shin was doing his best to stand tall, whilst Lin was achieving the same result with a relaxed frame. Hanzo simply stood as he always did, and that was the stance Bumi copied. Hahn, veteran that he claimed to be, stood at perfect attention with his head fixed straight ahead and his eyes staring into nothing.

 

The Cane Man walked up and down the line, his eyes falling up and down each recruit with the same display of bored disinterest. When he finally stopped, he gestured to the two stripes on his sleeve. “I am Corporal Han. It is with great pleasure that I tell you that I have been assigned as your welcoming guide to Dragon Koi Island and the Joint Training Facility. Kindly turn to your left and begin marching down the pier and down the pathway straight ahead.”

 

Bumi relaxed a little as he turned. If all the training staff were as calm and soft as Corporal Han then escaping should be a walk in the park.

 

“Section, quick march!”

 

The first attempt of the group to march looked more to Bumi like a band of drunks staggering home from the bar. Han glanced at them with thinly veiled amusement. “No, not like that at all. Right arm rises with the left foot, left arm rises with the right foot. Offset your swing.”

 

His advice only seemed to make things worse. Han offered them a bemused grin. “Ah, I suppose you’ll get the hang of it.”

 

 _‘Not on your life.’_ Bumi internally grinned. He could be out of here by dawn if this was the kind of attention that was going to be paid to them.

 

“Left, right, left, right, left, right, left.” Han droned on and on. “Squad, left wheel!”

 

As they went, Bumi was careful to make note of the path they were taking away from the docks. He would need to be able to find his way back after dark. There did not appear to be many sentries after they passed the docks. First they marched past a large, paved hollow square, which was immediately followed by a large building from which emanated the smells of meat and rice. Han cheerfully advised them that it was the mess. “Don’t worry, we’ll be coming back here for breakfast soon. First we’ll have to get you settled into your barracks.”

 

The barracks, as it turned out, was a short walk from the mess. Six large stone buildings, each with their own smaller paved square, stood in a neat line. Each building, Bumi noticed, was marked with a different insignia, a large animal rampant and angry.

 

“Armadillo-Wolf Company.” Han gestured to the first one. “Bear-Snake Company, Cheetah-Seal Company, Dolphin-Alligator Company, Eagle-Bat Company and Flying-Bear Company. Your section has arrived just in time. Second Platoon, Eagle-Bat Company arrived yesterday, you’ll join in with them.”

 

They were marched briskly up the stairs to the second level and shown inside a large room. The edges of the room were lined with double bunks and lockers, three quarters of the room already filled by chattering men and women in civilian clothing. Han gestured to the far left hand corner “You are the Fourth Section of this platoon. Pick your preferred bunkmate, but it doesn’t really matter. After two or three weeks you’ll all be at the same standard anyway.”

 

Walking down the room, Bumi noticed that the other recruits were wearing noticeably better clothes than the street and evening wear the press ganged section currently wore. They seemed far more prepared and accepting of where they were, as well. Some played cards, two had a Pai-Sho game going, some were reading books or magazines. None looked like they had been yanked out of bars in the middle of the night. Hanzo had selected the first bunk, Bumi joined him. He wasn’t going to be sleeping there long, and Hanzo didn’t seem the type to stop him if he accidentally woke him up.

 

“Hey there.” A young woman had approached he and Hanzo. “New guys?”

 

Bumi and Hanzo glanced at each other. Hanzo spoke first. “Aren’t we all new?”

 

The woman grinned, apparently thinking it was a joke. “Good point. Didn’t you bring any luggage?”

 

Hanzo shrugged. “I don’t carry much with me anyway. The rest of these guys were…”

 

“Kidnapped.” Bumi didn’t try and sweeten it. “We got drugged and carried onboard in sacks.”

 

The woman’s smile grew even wider. “Really? That’s amazing! That’s much more exciting than just signing up at the recruiting office.”

 

Bumi and Hanzo looked at each other again.

 

“Kidnapped.” Bumi said the word clearly. Did it mean something different outside Republic City? “Stolen away in the middle of the night against our will…that’s amazing?”

 

“Oh, it’s not so cool when you put it like that.” The smiler was briefly apologetic. “But if you think about it another way…”

 

“There is no other way of thinking about it!”

 

The smile momentarily disappeared from her face. “Oh…”

 

Bumi paused, momentarily ashamed of himself. In the silence he realised the room had fallen silent, the other recruits gazing at him with curiosity. That was the last thing he wanted. He bowed his head. “My apologies. It’s not your fault.”

 

“That’s okay.” The woman said. Her lips had already returned to smiling like he’d never said a word. “My name is Li Xiang.”

 

“No kidding? I’m Bumi.”

 

“Nice to meet you.” Her hand stretched out to meet his. “You the lead man for this section?”

 

“Lead man?”

 

“Yeah. They wanted a lead recruit from each section to help co-ordinate things until our instructors turn up. I’m lead for One, Xu Dong is lead for Two, Hiroto is lead for Three.” Li Xiang pointed at each of them in turn. “You lead for Four?”

 

Bumi shook his head. “No, that’s Hanzo for sure.”

 

Their heads turned to see Hanzo shaking his. “No thanks. I don’t do well with leading.”

 

Bumi shrugged. “Then I guess it would be…”

 

“Oh just admit it’s you.” Hanzo nudged him. “Shin and Lin already respect you for taking a swing at Amaruq, and if you don’t do it then we’ll just be stuck with Hahn.”

 

_At least Hahn will still be here tomorrow._

 

To argue would draw still more attention, yet more he didn’t want or need. He shrugged again, feeling he would become very used to the gesture in the short time he had left in the camp. “Sure, whatever, I’m the lead.”

 

“So…” Hanzo trailed off. “Do you know what time our…”

 

 _“Attention!”_ A deep voice roared from the doorway. _“Stand by bunks!”_

 

The room froze for a moment. The voice roared again. _“That means **move** recruits!”_

 

The room became a flurry of activity as card tables were knocked over and people pushed past each other to get back to their beds. Bumi and Hanzo stood next to each other, Bumi unable to contain a smirk as Li Xiang charged through the throng to get back to her position.

 

The owner of the deep voice soon came into view. A muscular man with close clipped hair and the blue uniform of a Water Tribe volunteer. Two stripes rested on his arm, and a special device was mounted just above the double rack of medal ribbons on the left side of his jacket, the crescent moon signifying a lower master waterbender. Two parallel scars decorated the right side of his face, more of an indication of heavy combat than all his decorations. Bumi instinctively knew he was a man to be feared.

 

His eyes passed over all of them, measuring them, weighing them, finding them wanting. Finally he gave a nod and turned back to the doorway. “All more or less in order!”

 

“Really?” A new voice questioned, a sardonic edge to the tone of the question. “Your generous nature is beginning to show again, Corporal.”

 

Flanked by three other corporals, two in green uniforms and one in red, the next speaker stepped forward. The measured clip of boot heels against the floorboards induced something unusual in Bumi’s stomach. It wasn’t fear, not completely. A slowly growing dread inside him that threatened to overwhelm the knowledge that he was perfectly safe. For a moment he was almost too afraid to look at the new arrival.

 

The voice began speaking. It was a woman’s voice. The universal Northern Earth Kingdom dialect with a Fire Nation accent.

 

“I am Staff Sergeant Machiko, Senior Drill Instructor of this platoon. The first words out of your mouth will be either yes or no, the second, third and last will be ‘Staff Sergeant’. Am I clear?”

 

There was a moment of silence. The voice was sharper this time. “I said, am I clear?”

 

This time there was a chorus response: _“Yes, Staff Sergeant.”_

 

“Better.”

 

Bumi finally dared to raise his eyes. At quick glance at the Staff Sergeant’s back did not reveal anything particularly impressive. Average height, average build, hair tied up in a neat bun. There was no particular reason to be apprehensive. Then she turned around.

 

He rediscovered that apprehension in a heartbeat.

 

Uncle Sokka had long left his warring days behind him, as had Fire Lord Zuko, Mom and Dad and Auntie Toph as well. But Aunt Suki was, and always had been, a warrior by profession. In her walk was a constant balance that mirrored the one in her eyes. The calm and serenity that did not hide the precision and focus with which she could direct her fury if she so chose.

 

Staff Sergeant Machiko’s eyes could have been a direct mirror for Aunt Suki. Provided, of course, that Aunt Suki was a great deal angrier than usual. She wore a red jacket rather than a blue one, with three chevrons and the Fire Lord’s insignia marking her rank. Whilst nearly all the corporals had a double stack of ribbons, the Staff Sergeant had four neat rows resting one atop the other. She wore no bending insignia, yet the waterbender corporal spoke to her with deep respect in his voice.

 

“You, all of you, have wound up here in my platoon for the next sixteen weeks.” Machiko informed them. “Welcome to Dragon Koi Island, the premiere training institution in the entire United Forces. For your situational awareness, we are approximately two days by steam from Republic City and another three days steam to the Fire Nation. So in case any of you get cold feet and decide to swim back, I’ll let you know right now that it might not be an option.”

 

There was an outbreak of laughter. Machiko wheeled on the culprit. “You!”

 

Bumi saw Li Xiang straighten up suddenly and winced on her behalf. The Staff Sergeant’s clipped pace sped up as she walked straight to the young recruit. “Is there something funny, Recruit…?”

 

“Recruit Li Xiang, Staff Sergeant!” She had clamped down on her laugh, but Li Xiang was clearly still struggling not to smile.

 

“Well, Recruit?” Sergeant Machiko asked again, her tone agitated. “Is there something _funny?_ ”

 

“It’s just…” Li Xiang hestitated. “It _was_ funny, Staff Sergeant.”

 

The air in the room was still, as if nobody intended to take another breath until Machiko made her move. Personally, Bumi believed Li Xiang was already toast. As the first person to incur Machiko’s anger, she would doubtless be an example to be…

 

“I appreciate your honesty, Recruit.” Machiko replied, her tone sharp but not carrying the same concealed rage as before. “It was meant to be more of a warning than a joke, but I can see how it might be funny.”

 

Her eyes scanned the room. “Let me make one thing clear, I do not punish for laughing, smiling or breathing out of turn. Humour is a soldier’s way of coping, and you are aspiring soldiers now. What I will punish is laziness, arrogance and back-chatting. A brief look at all of you and I can see that there’s plenty of it going around. No matter, I’ve seen it before.”

 

She strode up and down the line. “Sixteen weeks. You will learn to march. You will learn to make your beds and keep a clean barracks. You will learn teamwork, camaraderie, and the principles of the noble brotherhood that binds the United Forces together. You will even learn, to the regret of some of you, how to fight. You may even, at the end it, learn to be something more than useless wastes of perfectly good meat and bone. Am I understood?”

 

_“Yes, Staff Sergeant!”_

“Excellent, we will start now.” Machiko gestured to the door with the gold tipped cane in her left hand. “Form up outside in rows of three.”

 

Bumi began to walk slowly towards the door, his resentment at the whole situation continuing to build. All he wanted was a decent breakfast and then maybe some time to think out his escape route for tonight. In fact, the more he thought about it the more he considered that the whole thing was just a…

 

“I said _form up!_ ”

 

A mad scramble for the door began, Bumi inexplicably finding himself dashing forward with the rest of them. The Staff Sergeant had neither raised her voice nor made any threatening gestures toward the recruits, yet somehow he wanted to be as far away from the owner of that voice as possible before he made her angry.

 

The corporals stood in a loose box into which the recruits lined up, squaring off in three roughly even rows. ‘Roughly’ wasn’t good enough, and the corporals dived in.

 

“Even ranks, do you know what means?”

 

“Space out off the marker, Stick your arm out to the left, your friend will either move or get it in the face.”

 

“Didn’t your mother let you play with blocks as a child? You do know what a straight line looks like, right?”

 

The formation was almost perfect by the time Staff Sergeant Machiko exited the lines. The frown on her face deepened as she examined their line. “I didn’t know it was possible, but you all look worse in the sunlight. Let’s get that sorted. Platoon, left turn!”

 

The corporals pounced again. “Pivot on the left heel and right turn, bring the right foot up to the mark-time position, slam it back down.”

 

“Quick march!”

 

“March, recruit, that means swing your arms in time with your steps!”

 

“Closed fist! If I see that hand open again I’ll put a nice big rock in it and you can march with that!”

 

“Arms come up to breast pocket height.”

 

_“Get in step you horrible excuse for a human being!”_

 

It was a madhouse, Bumi concluded. A madhouse in which the inmates had full control of the interior. The platoon was marched to Machiko’s strict cadence, and the corporals’ constant haranguing, deeper and deeper into the barracks, passing a large swimming pool that struck Bumi as completely redundant considering they were on an island with a large sandy beach.

 

The order was given to halt, something Bumi was grateful for. The shoes he had worn for his night out were not made for marching around in formation and the linen shirt he was wearing was already damp from his sweat.

 

The next direction came down almost immediately. “Line up and prepare for induction in section order.”

 

Bumi had lost track of Hanzo and the others in the mix up, but figured that since the fourth section was the last one they’d be up the back anyway. Luckily it seemed even Shin had deduced that part. The eight of them grouped together briefly, Hahn flashing them all what might have been a reassuring smile.

 

“Don’t worry about this next part. It seems worse than it is.”

 

 _Seems worse than what is?_ Bumi didn’t get the chance to ask the question before the corporals opened the door and began to usher the recruits through. Bumi found himself slowly walking in line behind the rest of the platoon as they were processed through. He found half a dozen irrational fears floating through his head. Was it some kind of hazing ritual? A beating? Resistance to interrogation training? Were they going to test them for bending? He’d been through that once before, thank you very much.

 

He reached his turn in the line and found nothing but a few chairs with a man and a razor standing behind each one. Bumi briefly readjusted his collar and glanced around. He hadn’t been _that_ scared.

 

“Take a seat, sonny.” The barber, a gruff old man with sergeant’s stripes, patted his station. “Let’s get that mop of yours under control.”

 

Bumi took the seat, eyeing himself in the mirror for the first time since he’d smashed the one at the Triad bar two days earlier. He’d been wearing his best town clothes then, a blue jacket over a white collared shirt and his shoes highly shined for a night in the city. Kya had helped him with his hair like she always did when he couldn’t get it under control. Now his jacket was gone, his shirt was filthy and his hair was a dishevelled mess like the rest of him.

 

“Just a trim round the back.” He said. “Oh, and some wax when you’re done. Got a date tonight, need to look spiffy.”

 

The sergeant cracked a smile. “Good that you can still joke. Most of you kids are too worried about your first day to keep your sense of humour.”

 

Bumi grinned back. “What can I say? Getting drugged in a bar and tossed into a sack and waking up for a brand new haircut is a good Tuesday for me.”

 

Still chuckling, the sergeant began his work. His scissors cut away most of Bumi’s thick mop of brown hair before he whipped out his razor and shaved away the rest. Part of Bumi missed it. Mom hadn’t cut his hair too short since he was a child. He couldn’t remember the details very well, it had come after Dad had finally accepted that Bumi would never be an airbender. Even Dad’s reassurances couldn’t hide the pain in his eyes. Bumi had worn his hair long ever since. Only airbenders needed short hair or shaved heads, and he wasn’t an airbender. Still…

 

“What is it, sonny?” The sergeant asked gruffly. He finished his work with a flick of the razor. “You should be moving on.”

 

“Sorry…” Bumi looked at the mirror, half distracted. His hand touched his smooth scalp and he traced it backwards. “Just…thinking…”

 

“Take my advice and don’t do too much of that for the next few months.” The barber said. “Go with your instincts and embrace the pain, sonny. Best thing to keep in mind? This isn’t what the regular army is like. Well…most of the time, anyway.”

 

Bumi wondered if it was a pre-requisite for being old that you needed to deliver cryptic pieces of half-useful advice to younger generations that hadn’t asked for it.

 

The corporals moved them into another hallway, where men and women in grey uniforms stood behind stacks of boxes. The Water Tribe corporal stepped on one of the boxes. “File through and collect your first issue. Give the clerk your name, weight and sizes. Draw one set of boots, one set of trousers and one jacket and undershirt. The rest we’ll give to you after your showers.”

 

Bumi found himself in front of a bored looking woman with a clipboard. She glanced at him briefly. “Name.”

 

“Bumi.”

 

“Any last name?”

 

“No.”

 

“Age?”

 

“Eighteen.”

 

“Weight?”

 

“Two hundred pounds.”

 

“Height?”

 

“Six foot, two inches.”

 

“Place of birth?”

 

“United Republic.”

 

“Any allergies or special dietary requirements?”

 

“No.”

 

The clerk nodded. “Alright. Your number is eight-seven-eight-six-three-two-three-nine. No need to write it down, you’ll get your tags in a day or two. Preference for first pay? Republic yuan? Fire Nation yen?”

 

“Republic yuan.” It wasn’t like he’d be hanging around to collect it.

 

“Good, good.” The clerk absent-mindedly finished scrawling on her board before handing it to him. “Write down your sizes at the bottom and draw your uniform, then go through into the shower block and get all that hair off you before you change.”

 

Bumi glanced at the clipboard. There it was, all written down. The only information the United Forces cared to know about him. Age, weight, height, what they needed to pay him in. They collected all that and his measurements, chucked it on a piece of paper that could be filed under his own special reference number and that was it. They didn’t care about his name much less who he was. It felt off, like he was just another nameless, faceless scarecrow in a uniform that the clerk had to check off her list before she finished work for the day.

 

He might have thought on it for longer if a hand hadn’t shaken his shoulder. He glanced to his left and saw a bald man staring back at him. A bald man that, with a start, he realised was Hanzo. His clothes still gave him away, but Hanzo’s black hair and beard had been shorn away. An ugly scar that stretched along his chin almost to the base of his ear was now visible, no longer hidden by the beard. Uncle Sokka would have immediately re-filed him as ‘Scar-Guy’ instead of ‘Beard-Guy’

 

“Stop daydreaming.” Hanzo told him in a low voice. “That Water corporal is starting to notice.”

 

Bumi resisted the instinct to look at the corporal, choosing to follow Hanzo into the shower block. Another corporal was inside, this one in Fire Nation red. He pointed at two bins next to the doors.

 

“Clothes that you want to keep go on the right, you’ll get them back washed and dried at the end of training.” He barked. “Those that you don’t go on the left.”

 

Without hesitation, Edano removed his light blue jacket and placed it in the right bin, most of his cronies did the same with their expensive town clothes. Hanzo shrugged and did the same. Bumi decided against it. He wouldn’t need civilian clothes to swim out to the boat, best to just leave everything behind.

 

The shower felt good, the clean clothes felt better. The uniform was surprisingly comfortable, boots, trousers and undershirt all soft and fitting better than he’d expected. The grey jacket was a little too large, but he wasn’t too concerned. He’d be ditching it soon anyway.

 

Shin appeared out of nowhere. There was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there on the ship. For the first time, the kid actually seemed excited. Clad in his new grey uniform, and with his head freshly shaved, he looked somewhat like a malnourished polar-bear dog pup that had just seen a treat. “Hey, Bumi, how cool is this?”

 

“Cool?” Bumi spat the question. He retrieved the last item of his uniform, an eight pointed grey barracks cap. “I look like a sky bison in this get up. A handsome sky bison, sure, but still a big blob of grey.”

 

Shin didn’t seem to read Bumi’s tension. “Seriously, look at us? We look like…like _soldiers._ ”

 

Bumi looked at the mirror. He’d seen soldiers before. The Fire Nation Royal Guard that Uncle Zuko travelled with, they were soldiers. Whenever the United Forces had a parade in Republic City, soldiers marched down the street. Uncle Sokka was a soldier. Calm, confident and boisterous, radiating his easy skill with a varying level of modesty. Staff Sergeant Machiko…she might be the _ideal_ of a soldier made flesh.

 

Bumi saw a stranger’s face wearing a stranger’s uniform in a strange place. That wasn’t a soldier, it was just dress up. A few boys and girls playing make believe. His eyes snapped away, his face suddenly burning. “Come on, we’ll be late.”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

Staff Sergeant Machiko was waiting for them when they got outside with their brand new duffel bags stuffed full of spare uniforms, boots, washing and shaving gear, and half a dozen extra bits and pieces that Bumi could neither name nor properly use.

 

The Staff Sergeant had shed her neat red jacket in favour of a grey undershirt. “Form up!”

 

The process was as confused as before, the corporals howling at them from the edges as the platoon worked itself into some kind of formation. Once they were ready, Machiko strode up and down the line, her eyes passing over them like a sheep-dog supervising her flock.

 

When she reached the end of the line, her eyes briefly met Bumi’s. Maybe she saw a sliver of the anger he still felt burning under his skin, or maybe there was a bug on his face, but her eyes still turned to him again. Bumi stared at her steadily, refusing to break contact. If he could star down a bar of Triads (and occasionally his father) he could match her. Machiko blinked. Bumi nearly smiled. He’d won again. Machiko blinked again. A horrible thought struck Bumi. What if she hadn’t been playing at a stare off? What if she was committing his face to memory?

 

“You came to us as individuals.” Machiko began to walk back down the line, her voice ringing through the platoon. “You dressed differently, you talked differently, you styled yourselves according to your own self-image. That is the first thing we got rid of. Age, sex, race and social status mean nothing here and mean nothing to me. That is all part of the individual who you were and who you might become, it is worthless here. Individuals will _not_ survive this training. You can go it alone if you wish, I’ve seen many try and each of them fail. There are no lone wolves in the United Forces, no mavericks or renegades. We work as a team, as a single, cohesive unit, from the moment we start training to the day we finally leave the service. You will have the back of the soldier next to you and you will trust them to have yours, but for better or worse you will all go together. Am I understood?”

 

_“Yes, Staff Sergeant!”_

 

“I wonder.” She grunted. “We shall see. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s kick things off with a little run.”

 

Bumi smirked to himself. He’d always kept in good shape back home. Machiko could run them all day and he’d still have enough energy left to swim out to the fishing boats come night time.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

Bumi’s head hit the pillow before the rest of his body hit the matress. Never, not in his whole life, not on the worst of Uncle Sokka’s fishing trips, had he ever felt so tired. Every muscle ached, every joint was complaining, and even his bandaged finger was still making itself known.

 

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he had realised that Staff Sergeant Machiko’s idea of a ‘little run’ was markedly different to his own. They’d started off with a full circuit of the training camp before the Staff Sergeant had led them on a long and winding path in the hills behind the base, up and down the Three Wise Lemurs and doing an extra loop of the recruit lines before Machiko had declared them finished. Bumi had lost count, but Shin calculated it as close to ten miles.

 

Breakfast had finally followed, and Bumi had counted on a chance to sit down and re-organise his thoughts for his escape. He had counted wrong. He’d barely had fifteen minutes to shovel down a hasty breakfast and scramble back out onto the road where the instructors were waiting. Staff Sergeant Machiko had, somehow, eaten and showered and re-appeared in a fresh uniform showing no signs of exhaustion. Bumi had calculated that it was either a twin sister or the spirits were intervening somehow.

 

They’d collected training swords and staves from the armoury, drawn light armour on the return trip, and that was before they started their lessons. Two hours intensive close order drill before lunch, another two after. Left turns, right turns, about turns, saluting on the march. All of it accompanied by the same curses and shouts as before.

 

There’d been no respite after they came in out of the sun. The first lesson was sewing ( _For uniform maintenance and development of hand-eye co-ordination, maggot!)_ , something which the holes in Bumi’s fingers pleasantly reminded him that he was no good at. Then bed-making ( _A neat soldier is an efficient soldier, an efficient soldier is a deadly one!_ ), folding the corners of the sheets a dozen different times before the section commanders were satisfied. Then locker layout ( _Knowing where your equipment is could mean the difference between life and death, boot!_ ), with helmet, armour and clothes to be folded in such a manner, boots to be shined to a specific level of brightness, training swords to be stored to be ready for ready for use.

 

Dinner was as hastily shovelled down as lunch and breakfast, with still more lectures and lessons heaped on afterward. It was all Bumi could do to stagger to his bunk after final dismissal, topple onto it and try not to groan.

 

He could hear Shin muffling his crying with his pillow, with Lin softly comforting him and Edano whispering at them both to shut up. Hahn was humming to himself, still as relaxed as he’d been on the boat. Running and drill hadn’t phased him in the slightest. If Bumi didn’t know better he would have thought the man was happier at the end of the day than at the start. Hanzo simply lay down at went to sleep. Yoshi and Koga were arguing between themselves about whose fault it was they had gotten into that bar fight.

 

Bumi thought of the docks, of the fishing boats, of the promise of his freedom. He wouldn’t make it tonight, not with his legs worn through and his strength sapped. Tomorrow. He’d find his way out tomorrow.

 

_One day later…_

 

Bumi’s head hit the pillow. He barely heard the start of Shin’s muffled tears before his mind peacefully sank back into sweet oblivion.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

**A/N: Amazing what a single line of dialogue from Bumi about being recruited into the United Forces via potato sack can inspire. I kind of want to cover the stories that Bumi brought up in the show, given that his actions in season 2 demonstrated that he might not have been stretching the truth too much.**

**For my regular readers, this may seem a bitter of a sudden change. Really, I just wanted a break from writing Mass Effect stuff for a bit.**

**I’m also posting on AO3 as well from now on. If that’s more of a preferred format for you, you can read it over there. Same username.**


	2. Boot

The Legend of Bumi

Chapter Two: Boot

 

 

_“Any who knew my uncle even in passing could have described him to you in detail, so gregarious was his character. A man given to large smiles, booming laughter and impetuous generosity, who would have named every man, woman and child in the world as his friend if he could. Yet my father and aunt have described him much differently as a youth. The same clay was there, but unshaped and pliable. They describe a boy, in truth, not much different from many others. Kind when he wanted to be, affectionate enough when he was in a good mood, but also callow, selfish and rude. He took every slight, real or imagined, as a mortal offence. Perhaps my grandfather, Avatar Aang, never took a firm hand when he needed to, perhaps Grandmother thought he would grow out of it. Either way, Bumi began his basic training at Dragon Koi Island intensely focused on his own wellbeing, sparing not one thought for the men and women to his left and right.” Meelo, Master of the Southern Temple. **‘The Making of Heroes, Book Two.’**_

 

 

_“Hit the deck!”_

Bumi dove out of his bunk, collecting most of the sheets as he went. In his haste, his foot caught on the edge, he would have gone flying if Hanzo hadn’t steadied him.

 

“Thanks.” He whispered.

 

Hanzo shrugged. “It’ll be a long day even without bruising yourself.”

 

Bumi had no time to agree before the lights blinked on and the monsters streamed in. At least, that’s what Tenzin would have called them. That was a pretty broad field though, since Tenzin described everything loud and angry as a monster. It even technically covered Mother and Aunt Toph from time to time.

 

This morning the monsters took the form of Corporal Pimniq and Corporal Kanda. Bumi locked his eyes straight ahead as Pimniq stomped down the line, the Water Tribesman already brewing up his usual morning storm of rage and hate as he examined the recruits standing in line with their sheets over their shoulders. He stopped by Shin, just as he had for days now. Shin, as usual, froze in place, his face a terrified rictus as Pimniq glared at him.

 

“Have I offended the spirits?” Pimniq asked. “Have I committed some awful crime against the powers that dwell in the world beyond this one?”

 

Shin whimpered something. Pimniq roared again. “What was that, Recruit? Use the full power of your voice!”

 

Even with a deep breath, Shin’s voice was still little more than a squeak. “I said I don’t know, Corporal!”

 

“You don’t know much of anything, do you Recruit Shin?”

 

Receiving no answer, Pimniq turned away. His lip curled as he examined the rest of the platoon. “How is it, Recruits, that after seven days of training I still see no improvement in Recruit Shin?”

 

There was no answer.

 

“Is he receiving different training from the rest of you?”

 

 ** _“No, Corporal!”_** The platoon thundered.

 

“Is he sneaking sweets from the mess that weaken his constitution, perhaps?”

 

**_“No, Corporal!”_ **

 

“Is some terrible creature visiting him each night to suck away his courage?”

 

**“No, Corporal!”**

 

“Then I am lost!” Pimniq grabbed Shin by the front of his pyjama shirt and yanked him close. “I can think of no external reason why you continue to cower like a snivelling child instead of standing tall and meeting my eyes like your sister. I can only conclude that there is a weakness inside of you, Recruit. A weakness that I vow to all of you I shall snuff out before we are done.”

 

Something stiffened in Shin. He straightened himself, the motion pulling him free of the instructor. His yell didn’t sound much louder than his last, but at least it _was_ louder. “Yes, Corporal!”

 

Pimniq grunted. “Better.”

 

He turned back to the rest of the room. “Fifteen minutes. Be formed up for inspection in PT gear. Carry on!”

 

The room leapt into motion. Bumi raced to his footlocker and yanked out the small towel and razor at the very top. He bolted for the ablutions, cramming his way past a third of the platoon to an unoccupied portion of the long mirror. He briefly splashed his face with lukewarm water before scraping the razor over his cheeks and jaw. His face stung, but he couldn’t spare the time to shave slowly.

 

Shaving accomplished, he sprinted back into the main room and tapped Hanzo on the shoulder as he stuffed his shaving gear away. “Go, go!”

 

His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he vaguely tried to guess the time. Two minutes? Three? As many as four? Precious seconds in a merciless race against the Spirit of Time were already being lost just by thinking about it. Hanzo had already made a decent start on the first bed, Bumi finished it off with a few quick tucks then set to work on his own. Hanzo reached him before he was halfway done, and the two of them made short work of it. The bed completed, Bumi went back to his locker and grabbed his PT gear. It took him only a few moments to dress, that lesson had been thoroughly learnt after the third morning of ‘re-training’.

 

Bumi’s eyes shot up to the clock hanging like a raised sword over the doorway to the stairs. Nine minutes. He almost sighed with relief, then stopped it as he glanced back at the rest of the section.

 

Section Four had been both lucky and cursed. Lucky because of Hahn. The former soldier was a past master at shaving quickly, making his bed in under a minute, and meeting all of the otherwise impossible timings that the instructors expected the platoon to meet.

 

They were also cursed. Still because of Hahn. Having been through his own basic training long ago, the man felt no obligation to help the others with their morning duties.

 

_“I could help.” He’d said, his lips curling derisively. “But how would you learn?”_

Bumi had rapidly decided that he disliked Hahn.

 

Like he had the day before, Bumi threw himself into helping Shin square away his bed. Lin had finished getting dressed and joined in just as the lookout on the stairs gave the whistle that made the rest of the platoon snap to attention beside their beds. Bumi wanted to stand up beside his own, but something in him resisted leaving Shin to his feet.

 

He already knew they were too late. The sharp click of boots on floorboards as he stuffed the last of the sheet under the mattress might as well have been a trumpet blaring as a platypus-bear started licking its lips.

 

“Recruit Shin is late again, Corporal Pimniq.” Machiko’s voice cut through the silence like the tongue of a whip. “And that means Four is late again. Think up suitable re-training for later on.”

 

“Aye, ma’am.” Pimniq snarled. “I’ll think up something creative.”

 

From his left, Bumi heard a resentful hiss from Edano and inwardly winced. If Shin was drawing attention by falling behind, Edano was generating new levels of attention from the instructors by his sheer bad temper. The itch in Bumi’s brain, what Uncle Sokka liked to describe as ‘the Water Tribe stupidity sense’, had been growing still more insistent every hour that he spent in the man’s presence.

 

Machiko and Pimniq were joined by Kanda, Geng and Ren, the instructors stalking past the bunks to inspect for poorly made beds or unlocked foot lockers.

 

“Barely adequate.” Machiko sniffed. “But adequate all the same. Outside.”

 

The mad dash to the stairs was customary, as was the scramble to form up in ranks of three. The corporals formed up on each corner of the formation, but the corrective screaming was mercifully absent. After seven days, the platoon had mastered neat rows. It seemed to be the only thing they had managed to get right.

 

The sun was rising as the platoon ran down the track to the PT fields. Bumi shuddered to think what fresh torture the corporals had planned for the morning. Each day one of them came up with some new and inventive exercise routine that left the platoon gasping for breath and begging for water. Geng, the first of the Earth corporals, seemed to favour rope climbing. They’d been taught it on their third day, learning how to lock their boots onto the vertical ropes to allow for effortless ascension. Geng liked to toss in a variant by making them climb it without their legs. Save for Hahn and Lin, no one in the platoon had been able to make a complete ascension.

 

Kanda and Ren, the Fire and second Earth corporals, both had a liking for high intensity circuits, with Kanda working the upper body and Ren the lower. Pimniq, unsurprisingly, took them swimming. Drowning, actually. It felt a lot more like drowning.

 

This morning was the first time that Staff Sergeant Machiko stepped out in front of them. A slight whimper sounded, but Bumi couldn’t tell who it came from. It might as well have been from the whole platoon.

 

Machiko’s expression did not change as she examined them, her lips remaining in a dispassionate frown that only occasionally shifted to faint disdain as her eyes passed over a particularly fat or weedy recruit. Unlike Geng, who could display a fantastical level of anger on his face, or Kanda, whose agonised expressions were almost comical, the Staff Sergeant didn’t change her face any more than she changed her voice.

 

“Good morning, platoon.” She said. “Welcome to Day Seven. You have successfully reached the end of your first week of training. It is not a major achievement, but it is still a step along the journey.” Her arms folded behind her, she stepped down the line. “You have been worked hard, and no doubt are feeling quite sorry for yourselves. Though it will not get any easier, you have put in sufficient effort for me to decide that Corporal Ren’s planned session for this morning would be unnecessary. Therefore, we shall conduct a recovery and stretching session for PT this morning.”

 

The icy anticipation building in Bumi’s gut didn’t dissipate. There’d been enough logic traps and cleverly worded punishments in the last few days to make even Tenzin suspicious of somebody’s good intentions.

 

“Take a slow jog at your own pace around the oval. Limber up properly and then we’ll commence stretching.”

 

She paused. “That means go, Recruits!”

 

Startled, the herd bolted. Bumi sprinted over a hundred paces before he realised they weren’t being chased. A glance back showed the instructors simply standing around and casually chatting as the recruits went on their way. Bumi found himself running alongside Hanzo, the other man’s face slowly drawing into a half grin as his eyes met Bumi’s.

 

“You’re going tonight.”

 

It wasn’t a question and they both knew it. “I’ll never get another chance.” Bumi confided as they drew further around the oval. “I wouldn’t have made it any night this week, not by a long shot. But if I keep my head down today, I could still be fresh tonight.”

 

Hanzo nodded. “That might work. You should eat plenty of fruit, stay hydrated as well. You sure the boat guys will accept your word that your family will pay? You can’t be the first guy that’s promised them a fortune to get him out of here.”

 

“I can be persuasive.” Bumi cracked a real smile. “If not, I’ll swim from ship to ship till I find someone who knows my Uncle. Odds are I’ll find one.”

 

The other man shrugged. “Makes no difference to me, really. Either you get clear or they’ll catch you and toss you in the stockade for a week. I’ll just say I didn’t know a thing when they ask.”

 

“Thanks.” Bumi nudged him slightly. “Why not come with me? I know you volunteered, but…”

 

“This place is the worst place in the world?” Hanzo said, his eyes tracking back to the outline of the hills. “Believe me, I’m tempted. And if I had anywhere else to go to…but what’s the use? I don’t. Besides, I’m actually better at this than I anticipated. Shave, make a bed, eat quickly, exercise. What’s not to like?”

 

“Getting treated like livestock?”

 

Hanzo’s rare smile lit up his face for a brief second. “Everyone’s livestock to someone, Bumi. Might as well be the military that owns me.”

 

Bumi didn’t bother to ask again. Hanzo’s answers always came in halves and trying to decrypt them would have given a patient man a headache and Bumi was about as far from a patient man as it was possible to get without digging up Ozai himself.

 

“Tonight, then.” He fought back a grin of excitement as he came back around the track to where the instructors were waiting. “Republic City, here I come.”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

Night had long stolen its way across the island before Bumi finally stirred from his rack. Breathing steadily to keep his heart rate down, he was almost sure he’d been waiting for a good two hours. He didn’t want to take any chances that one of the instructors was finishing up late. The fishing boats would keep that long.

 

The hardest part had been going to bed dressed in his chosen escape clothes, a set of PT gear. In the end he’d hidden in the head until lights out was called, then snuck back to his bunk in the darkness. After half an hour he was reasonably confident that most of the platoon was asleep, but he kept his peace all the same. Extra waiting wouldn’t mean much difference now, but a few minutes extra planning could only help.

 

 _“Down the stairs and out the door.”_ He recited silently. _“Skirt the parade ground using the bushes. Past the mess and then use the obstacle course as a barrier between the guard tower. Docks will be right ahead. Stay to the right, searchlights are positioned on the left. Enter the surf off the far beach and swim out and in to the fishing fleet to avoid any watchers on the docks. Pick something low in the water, already loaded up and just about ready to sail home. Figure the rest of it out from there.”_

Uncle Sokka might have suggested some improvements, but Bumi was confident that the plan would carry him far enough. When he could take it no more, he allowed himself to move.

 

Either side of him he could hear the snores of his squadmates, with Shin muttering something in his sleep that Bumi didn’t catch. Retrieving his boots from the side of his bed, Bumi kept in a low crouch as he padded softly down the hall and out into the stairwell. Once there, he froze, straining his ears for any possible disturbance behind him and any hint of someone waiting below. After two minutes he was satisfied. Uncle Sokka’s advice was always to listen for both sound and the absence of it. Rather than listen for something obvious, like a boot on gravel, listen for the frogs and crickets. If they were chirping and croaking away then it was a good sign you were in the clear.

 

Since the crickets were cheerfully singing away, Bumi was confident in his decision to finally move. He took the steps slowly, mindful that other platoons in the building could still hear him and might turn him in if he made himself known. Only when he reached the bottom of the stairs and still heard no alarm did Bumi allow himself to breathe.

 

“Next stop…”

 

_“Recruit Bumi!”_

If Bumi had not been a man well accustomed to both the delivery and reception of elaborate practical jokes then the hiss that leapt out of the shadows might have made him give what Kya had always gleefully described as the girliest scream she had ever heard. Even forearmed with such a childhood, the veiled menace in the voice was enough to freeze his blood to very sharp and very cold shards of ice.

 

“Recruit Bumi.” The voice’s owner stepped forward and Bumi could see her face reflecting the moonlight like a terrible mirror. “What are you doing out of bed at this time of night?”

 

“Staff Sergeant.”

 

For all his intricate and (internally) boastful plans of daring escape, Bumi suddenly found himself fixed in place with a savage terror that almost made him squeak out the words. His body had betrayed him, his brain had taken an emergency holiday to Ember Island and left him to sort things out on his own.

 

“Staff Sergeant.” He repeated. There was no choice. He would have to enter ‘the Bumi State’. Kya had come up with the name years ago after witnessing how Bumi’s tongue could sometimes take leave of his body and spin out of nothing a stream of fantastical tales that could hoodwink even the sharpest of Auntie Toph’s officers. “I was sneaking out to have a smoke, Staff Sergeant.”

 

Machiko stared at him as if he’d just announced that he was plotting to overthrow the Earth King. “A smoke.” She repeated, her voice flat.

 

“Yes, ma’am. I’m a fiend for it.” Bumi found his groove and stuck with it. “Can’t go a day without a pack, normally that is, and I haven’t had a smoke for over a week. I came down here to get away from the rest of the platoon so I wouldn’t disturb them.”

 

Machiko stayed silent. Bumi suppressed the violent urge to twitch under her gaze. He couldn’t take a step backward or she’d be on him like a sky bison on a Dai Li agent.

 

“I see.” Machiko said. Her eyes fell to Bumi’s hands. “It appears that in your consideration to spare your fellow recruits you have forgotten something quite critical, Recruit. Your cigarettes.”

 

Bumi’s smile felt like the grin of a corpse. Quite suddenly he wanted his mother. Machiko took a step forward and raised her arm. Bumi flinched.

 

There was the sound of metal releasing metal and Bumi mentally prepared to have a flick knife cut off something important. When Machiko spoke, her voice was suddenly…friendly? “Fortunately I’m a bit of a habitual smoker myself. Have one of mine.”

 

Bumi looked down. With his eyes growing used to the darkness, he could now make out the shape of the cigarette case in Machiko’s hand. The relief he felt that he wasn’t going to die of puncture wounds in front of the parade ground was quashed by the realisation that he actually needed to take one. His hand crept upwards and his fingers fumbled one of the white sticks out of the case and held it in an awkward two fingered grip. He couldn’t quite suppress the tremble that the adrenaline was inducing.

 

“You’ll need a light.” Machiko presented him a matching lighter, her voice nearly sugary.

 

Bumi hadn’t smoked since a rebellious…well, more rebellious than usual, phase a few years ago. He’d quit in favour of fighting, cigarettes tasted foul anyway. He remembered enough to take a short breath as Machiko held the small light up to him. He took a half-hearted puff, swirled it around his mouth a few times, then exhaled.

 

Machiko tutted. “Your technique is terrible, Recruit. You need to take a deeper breath, really inhale the smoke down to the lungs.”

 

“Oh…” Bumi paused. “Well, I’m more of a light inhaler, helps more with running and…”

 

“A deep breath, recruit.” The good cheer suddenly left her tone. “And hold.”

 

As if Machiko was controlling his very arm, Bumi raised his cigarette back to his lips and began to inhale. The edge of flame crept its way down the white paper, more and more of the stifling smoke pouring down Bumi’s throat with burning glee. Nearly half the cigarette was gone before Machiko finally nodded.

 

The coughing fit that seized Bumi as the smoke left him would have shown up Tenzin with a cold. Smoke billowed out his mouth and nostrils, he nearly doubled over with wheezing and for a moment all he could see was the moonlight shining off Machiko’s boots. The Staff Sergeant retrieved the remains of the cigarette from his boneless fingers and took a contented puff. “It seems a week’s abstinence has lowered your tolerance, Recruit Bumi. I’d give it up for a while, if I were you.”

 

“Yes, Staff Sergeant.” Bumi spluttered the words. “May I return to my bunk, Staff Sergeant?”

 

“You may.” Machiko nodded. As Bumi went to move, she suddenly raised a hand. “A sudden thought occurs to me, Recruit Bumi.”

 

“Staff Sergeant?”

 

“That you may have made up your story about sneaking out for a smoke in order to mask a failed attempt at desertion.”

 

Bumi’s voice cracked. “Absolutely not, Staff Sergeant.”

 

Machiko shrugged. “It’s just as well. Its breeding season for the schools of dragon koi in the bay. And they are nocturnal hunters.”

 

Bumi couldn’t see too well in the half-light, yet he could have sworn that a look of incredible smugness had briefly passed over Machiko’s face. He blinked and looked again. The stoic indifference that was Machiko’s customary expression stared back at him. Without another word, Bumi turned back to the stairs and slunk back up them. For the second time in less than two weeks he felt as if he’d been anticipated, out-maneouvred and thoroughly destroyed by a pai sho master playing with twice the usual number of pieces.

 

Facing Hanzo’s silent laughter in the morning was going to suck.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

Hitting the ground wasn’t so bad. Once you accepted that hitting the ground was going to hurt then it didn’t really matter. In fact, lying on the sand was actually a moment of blissful catch up on the sleep he’d missed the night before.

 

Getting back up again was the hard part.

 

“Get up, Recruit!” Corporal Kanda nudged him with his boot. “You spend any more time down there and you might as well move your mattress down here.”

 

Bumi scrambled to his feet. He’d seen enough of Kanda’s punishments not to tempt the diminutive Fire Nation corporal. Bumi resumed his guard stance, making a mental note to drop his elbow lower to prevent Kanda from repeating the same attack.

 

“Take a break.” Kanda gestured to the benches. “Not bad for your first morning.” He fixed Koga in place with a glare as Bumi’s training partner began to move. “Not you, Recruit Koga. I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

 

Koga gave Bumi a despairing glance as he resumed his own stance. Arrested for brawling he might have been, but Bumi strongly suspected that Koga’s only role in the barfight was cheering on his friends. He might not have been alone in that group. Hahn and Yoshi were both waiting at the bench, both men chatting amiably whilst Edano was being tossed head over heels by Hanzo as he yet again failed to execute the guard Corporal Pimniq had been teaching him.

 

The sun had long risen over the beach just down from the central docks. The platoon, locked in hand to hand combat training since dawn, had been sweating profusely in addition to collecting a medley of cuts and bruises from their section commanders and the dedicated hand-to-hand instructors. Bumi had found, to his relief, that boxing and wrestling lessons with Uncle Sokka had translated fairly well to the first few lessons, the hand to hand instructor passing him through to spar with the section commanders and the other recruits while they worked on some of the less apt puils. Pupils like Shin.

 

“Keep your guard up!” Machiko was barking as she walked around the flatfooted recruit, correcting his stance every few moments. “Drop your fists and you’ll drop your sword. Drop your sword and you’ll lose your head!”

 

The instructor came at him again with a flurry of punches. This time Shin held his position better, working his guard in sequence until the instructor came to a stop. Machiko nodded. “Better. Take a break, Recruit. You’ve earned…”

 

“Damn it!” Edano’s angry roar was ecompanied by the snap and thud of a bending kata. Almost simultaneously, the platoon jerked their heads around to see a chunk of sand smack Hanzo off his feet and into the shallows. Hanzo landed badly, his lips parting in a pained shout as his arm twisted on the fall.

 

For a moment Bumi was convinced Edano was about to die. Corporal Pimniq was already stepping forward, water leaping from the waves to surround his fist as he advanced on a suddenly panicking Edano.

 

“As you were, Corporal!”

 

The shout brought Pimniq to a stop as Machiko stepped forward. The Staff Sergeant’s eyes were as grim as her subordinate’s, but she didn’t spare Edano a glance as she walked past him. “See to Recruit Hanzo.”

 

Pimniq glared viciously at Edano, but snapped to his orders, pulling Hanzo from the surf and walking him toward the medics on the sidelines. Machiko turned back to Edano, the surly recruit having regained some of his defiance now that Pimniq was moving further away.

 

“I don’t recall ordering any bending practice this morning, Recruit.” The Staff Sergeant was almost whispering.

 

“Staff Sergeant! This fistfighting stuff is useless!” Edano protested. “A non-bender can’t take a bender in a real fight.”

 

“Is that so?” Machiko mused. “Well then, how about I strike a deal with you, Recruit? I’ll come at you. All five feet and nine inches of non-bending me. I will have no weapons. You may earthbend at will. Get one good hit on me and you will be excused from exercises for the rest of the day.”

 

Bumi tried to catch Edano’s eye, tried to shake his head hard enough for him to see. Others around him were trying to do the same. Even more were grinning, though it was hard to tell whose defeat they were anticipating. Edano certainly didn’t lack confidence. He nodded with a smirk. “Deal, Staff Sergeant!”

 

“Excellent.” Machiko tested the sand under her boot and nodded. “I’ll give you a little extra distance. Sand is harder to bend than dirt or rocks, after all.”

 

Her pace quick and sure, Machiko increased the space between herself and Edano to the point where Bumi was absolutely certain that even Suyin could have taken a break from playing with her dolls lay the drill instructor out flat. She eyed the ground, tracing a path that Bumi could see would take her up further onto the shoreline where the sand had been compacted by trample of booted feet all morning. He looked back to Edano and knew that he was seeing the same thing. The earthbender smirked, subtly changing his feet to align himself with her oncoming angle. Bumi shivered as the breeze brushed the back of his neck.

 

“Are you ready?” Machiko called. Her answer was a ball of sand that nearly, but not quite, clipped her on the head. And then she was moving. Not right, but left. Not further up the shore, but along the line where the surf just ended, where the footing was briefly firm and unyielding. And, Bumi saw, with the sun shining over her shoulder.

 

Uncle Sokka had always held that a fast moving target was a bender’s worst enemy. _“By the time they do the calculations in their head you’re usually either too far away for them to bother with or you’re too close for them to fight effectively.”_

 

Bumi had maintained a degree of scepticism about that theory. He’d never seen Uncle Sokka win a single sparring match with Dad or Mom or Uncle Zuko. Bumi’s own preferred method was to never start a fight with a bender unless he was close enough to win on the first punch. But after many long years of waiting, Bumi was finally present to see the Sokka Theorem decisively confirmed. Because Staff Sergeant Machiko had started running down a stretch of beach twice the length of the dock on Air Temple Island and Edano hadn’t landed a _single hit_.

 

He’d known, on a sub-conscious level at least, that the senior drill instructor was supremely fit. But he hadn’t expected her to be quite so _fast_. Edano threw wave after wave of sand at her as she approached, his speed increasingly frantically as the distance closed, and somehow Machiko dodged, ducked, dipped, dived and dodged past every single one without losing any forward momentum.

 

At the last possible second Edano took a step back and braced himself. Reaching down he brought up as much sand as he could lift and began to compact it. Machiko drew closer and closer, her eyes narrowing in concentration as Edano began the first steps of a kata. Dripping sweat, Edano brought his arms round in a forward sweep, the heavy ball of sand shooting from his hands in an impossible to follow blur…that Machiko neatly sidestepped to punch Edano square in the face.

 

Edano’s nose shattered like glass under a brick. There was a soft thud as he dropped to the sand and then silence as the platoon gaped.

 

Machiko folded her arms behind her back again. Edano continued moaning on the ground. She stepped over him, taking great care to keep her boots out of the sudden spurt of blood. “As you can see, a bender cannot employ their element if you disable their face. And that is why we learn to fight with our fists.”

 

Pimniq had returned with Hanzo, the scarred recruit gingerly rotating his arm around as if afraid the medics’ waterbending might not have entirely fixed the dislocation. Pimniq chuckled a little at Edano’s prone form, helping the boneless recruit back to his feet and guiding him back to the medics in turn.

 

“You got lucky, boy.” Bumi heard him say. “The Staff Sergeant sent you to the medics, but she could have put you in the ground if she’d hit a little lower.”

 

There was not a whisper of complaint or the faintest outburst of bending for the rest of the day. The platoon returned to barracks with Shin glowing from the grudging praise of Staff Sergeant Machiko and Edano glowering under the smirks of the rest of the recruits. Even Yoshi and Koga sat a little further away from him at dinner.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

Growing up in the environment of Air Temple Island, where potential pranksters ranged from Lin getting Tenzin into all manner of mischief to even the Avatar and Uncle Sokka blowing off steam by plotting a truly fantastical assault on the dignity of a visiting Fire Lord, a man learned to sleep light and ready for action at any moment. So when Bumi’s unconscious brain registered the first hint of a scuffle nearby it immediately sounded a call to arms that shook his weary body back into consciousness.

 

Glancing to his right he saw only Hahn sleeping peacefully. Glancing to his left he met the fearful and teary eyes of Shin choking on an improvised gag. It took Bumi one blink to process it, then another to throw off his sheets and leap up from his bed. Yoshi and Koga were holding Shin’s sheets down to prevent his arms getting free while Edano stood over him with a lumpy sock that Bumi could guess was filled with bars of soap.

 

He was too late to stop the first blow from landing on Shin’s unprotected stomach, but he caught Edano as he was drawing back for another swing and sent him crashing to the deck with a right cross. Koga rose with his fists up, unwittingly letting Shin wriggle free of his confinement. Shin may have been smaller and weaker, but Koga couldn’t stop a girlish scream as Shin’s teeth locked onto his shoulder.

 

Only a few recruits stirred at the sound. One of them was Lin. As if she’d had to deal with the same situation before, the sister descended to her brother’s aid. Yoshi backed away as Hanzo rose to see what was going on, and even Hahn got out of his bed with an ill tempered snarl to separate Shin and Koga. Edano found himself back on the ground with Lin’s knee on his chest.

 

Bumi’s brain finally caught up with the situation about the same time as his blood started to boil with the rush of the fight. The fight that was already over. Lin looked up at Bumi, her lips drawn back in a grimace. “What do we do with him?”

 

They were all looking at him, Bumi realised dully. The whole section, even the three troublemakers, believed that he would make the decision. And not because of anything that he’d done, just because he’d accidentally wound up as their lead man. He hadn’t earned it, but they wanted him to shoulder the choice. And the choice needed to be made now.

 

“Ablutions.” He whispered. “Hanzo and Lin, bring Edano. Hahn, bring Koga.”

 

They padded noiselessly into the shower block, Shin carefully closing the door behind them to avoid waking up anyone else. Edano and Koga were none too gently pushed against the far wall, Yoshi standing uneasily next to them.

 

Bumi was angry. Too angry to deal with this clearly. He walked back and forth for a few seconds, breathing deeply to calm himself, to ‘gain mastery of the spirit’ as Dad put it. He didn’t turn back to Edano until he was sure he could speak without shouting.

 

Lin wasn’t so patient. “What the hell were you doing?” She hissed. “What did my brother do to you?”

 

Edano looked almost sulky. “He’s too slow.” He said. There was a petulant note in his voice. “He’s dragging us into their sights every day.”

 

“He’s dragging us?” Hanzo snapped. “You’re the idiot that picked a fight with the _senior instructor_.”

 

Even Hahn nodded at that. “If we weren’t being spotlit before then we are now.” The sage note in his voice was an insistent grind against the calm Bumi was trying to attain. “I remember on my first raid during the Hundred Year War, when we came across this flotilla commanded by Vice Admiral Chen. He was…”

 

“Quiet.” Bumi’s growl, surprisingly, shut Hahn up immediately. He looked up at the section, pitching his voice as low as possible to stop it from cracking with pent up outrage.

 

He quietly imagined himself as Uncle Sokka addressing the Council, bending them to his will with glib jokes and irreverent flattery. Nope, that wouldn’t work right now. He substituted Uncle Sokka with Aunt Toph, her gravelly tone lambasting incompetent aldermen or corrupt community leaders. That was better.

 

“We’ve been here one week.” He said. “One week and we’ve managed to draw heat from the instructors in a new and inventive way every single day. We’ve had more incidents than all of the other sections combined. Even Li Xiang’s section is working together better than ours, and they all hate her and hate each other into the bargain.”

 

Shin nervously smiled at that, the rest of them just looked down. Even Hahn seemed somewhat shamefaced. Bumi collected himself again. _‘Don’t point out the problems without solutions,’_ Uncle Sokka sang inside his skull. He had one, a half-formed idea that had struck him a day or two. He hadn’t wanted to propose it, didn’t want to try and speak with an authority he didn’t have or overstep a non-existent position. Now he was angry enough that he didn’t care whose egos he stepped on.

 

“These groups we’re in aren’t working.” Bumi said. “We’re matched up all wrong and it shows. We end up working against each other, getting tangled up and in the way. Here, in the obstacle course, everywhere. So we’re going to change things up.”

 

“Who put you in charge?” Edano had scraped some of his ego back together. Hanzo offered him a withering glare.

 

“You did, when you didn’t bother stepping up to become lead man on day one.” Hanzo gestured. “None of you did. We all sat back and let Bumi take the heat, which means we owe him a chance to fix this outfit.”

 

“I’ll follow Bumi’s decision.” Lin declared. Shin just nodded his agreement. Hahn offered a shrug which could have meant anything, but he didn’t seem to be taking Edano’s side.

 

Bumi felt something tight unknot in his chest. More than half backed him, that was enough. “Starting from tomorrow we’re going to work in new pairs and groups of four for morning routine. Hahn, you’ve got the most experience and the quickest hands. You’ll bunk next to Shin, get him squared away each morning until he’s fast enough to do it on his own.”

 

For a moment he was afraid he’d made a mistake in tackling the one man who could still undermine him first. But Hahn actually nodded instead of giving his usual apathetic shrug. “I can do that.”

 

Emboldened, Bumi turned to the rest of them. “Hanzo will pair up with Koga, and I’ll go with Yoshi. Edano and Lin? You’ll be together from now on.” Lin looked irritated but didn’t argue. Edano simply bowed his head, all the fight gone out of him as his cronies looked slightly relieved at the rest of Bumi’s choices.

 

Bumi almost dismissed them, but hesitated again. Aunt Toph would have slapped him on the back and called it a day at that, but either Uncle Sokka or Mom would usually have to step in after Aunt Toph was done to soften the blows she’d delivered and grease the wheels of goodwill. Reaching out, Bumi laid a hand on Edano’s shoulder. The other man flinched, but looked up to meet his gaze. It struck Bumi that Edano was only nineteen, barely older than himself and just as inexperienced. And he knew, without a shadow of doubt, Edano wanted to go home just as badly as Bumi did.

 

“I know you don’t want to be here.” Bumi said, his tone gentle. He looked at the others. “I know hardly any of you want to be here. But we’ve still got fifteen weeks to go, and the only ones that can make that any harder than it needs to be is us. The extra punishments? Double PT and drill? We can make that stop if we work together. My Dad once told me that you can thrive anywhere if you can find friends there. I don’t know if any of us will ever be friends, but maybe we can settle for just helping each other instead.”

 

Edano looked away, his face red. “Yeah, I guess. We can do that.”

 

“Okay then.” Bumi withdrew, suddenly conscious of everyone’s gaze. “I guess we’re done then. Everyone get to sleep.”

 

He caught a glimpse of a few curious faces as the section filed back down to their bunks. There’d be whispers tomorrow, and no doubt Li Xiang’s wagging tongue would be overheard by an instructor. There’d be consequences, no doubt, but they all seemed so far away. Bumi flopped back onto his bed and for once his last thoughts didn’t dwell on Air Temple Island.

 

**-TLoB-**

“Recruit Shin!”

 

The tongues had wagged faster than expected. Pimniq had only been halfway through his morning inspection when he had stormed up to the diminutive recruit looking angrier than usual.

 

“Corporal!” Shin snapped to attention.

 

“I understand there was a fight last night, Recruit. Point out those who assaulted you.”

 

“There wasn’t a fight, Corporal!”

 

“Are you contradicting me, Recruit?”

 

“No, Corporal!”

 

“Then point out your attackers, Recruit.”

 

“Simple misunderstanding, Corporal! I suffer from bad night terrors!”

 

Pimniq glared at Shin, then at the rest of the section. “Well then. I’d suggest you never suffer those night terrors again, Recruit! Because if you do then I will come back and I will put those night terrors in the infirmary for a week!”

 

He paused, then glanced at Shin’s bed. “On time for the first time this morning, Recruit?”

 

“Yes, Corporal!”

 

Pimniq grunted before stomping on to the next section. Bumi wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard Edano mutter ‘thank you’ to Shin as they filed out for PT.

 

For some reason, Bumi found a smile on his face that was impossible to suppress until Pimniq grew irritated and made enter a squat-hold until it disappeared.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

**A/N: This chapter was based a great deal on what I remember of recruit training, though a little over-dramatized. I never saw an instructor assault a recruit or any recruits gang up on others. These days that kind of stuff only really exists in the movies.**


	3. A Place To Call Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Bumi reaches the end of his training he finds himself faced with more problems than before. Where does his home and family truly lie?

The Legend of Bumi

Chapter Three: A Place to Call Home

 

“Come on! Pick up the pace! I don’t want to finish too far ahead.” Bumi grabbed the rope and locked his feet around it to propel himself upwards.

 

“No chance of that.” To his left, Shin had already reached the top of the vertical rope and was swinging himself onto the horizontal. “Too much rice at the mess this morning, Bumi?”

 

Bumi flashed him a grin as he made his own traversal and shimmied along the underside of the rope. “I’m a growing boy, Shin, not some overgrown lemur like you.”

 

“Hah!” Shin reached the far side and slid down. “You can talk all you want, Bumi, but you’re still falling behind!” Shin was on the ground first but Bumi beat him to the tunnels. When he reached the other side he risked a look back. Four Section was more or less together, not as spread out as the first three had been on their run throughs.

 

Shin crossed the line first, but the whole section was quick behind. Pimniq had a satisfied edge to his usual grunt as he took down their time. “Fifteen minutes, ten seconds. Not a record, but close. Not bad, team. Not bad at all. Take a break.”

 

Bumi nearly tripped as a familiar hand slapped him on the back. He’d already guessed who the owner was when he launched a knee high kick at him. “Cut it, Hanzo.”

 

“Sorry, boss.” Hanzo gave a short bow before pitching a water bottle toward him. “Just congratulating you on another milestone you pushed us over. Final combat fitness assessment completed with no failures. More than any of the other teams can say.”

 

Their eyes switched to Section One, Corporal Kanda irately upbraiding two red-faced recruits whilst Li Xiang stood with slumped shoulders after Kanda had removed the single bronze pin that marked her as section lead. Bumi half shuddered at what Pimniq would have done to him if some of Four Section had failed.

 

They hadn’t, though. Shin and Edano had fallen a little behind in the route march, but Hahn had dropped back to encourage them forward. The stores carry, rope climbs and obstacle course had all been difficult but not impossible. As strange as it seemed, through all the exhaustion Bumi felt light on his feet. He accepted the water bottle from Hanzo and took a deep swig before pitching it back. “Would you believe me if I said I never doubted we’d all make it?”

 

“I’d call you a liar on the spot.” Hanzo replied. He hadn’t lost the mocking, sardonic edge from his voice, yet there was no malice in his words. Bumi liked that about the older man. Hanzo still didn’t talk too much, and when he did there was usually a cryptic nature to the words. Bumi had coaxed more out of him over the many weeks of their training and found that underneath his reticence was a dark sense of humour that matched his own.

 

“Yeah, well it’s not as though the…”

 

“Teams, bring it in!”

 

Bumi cut his sentence and sprinted. They may have gotten faster with their beds and personal grooming each morning, but there was no such thing as moving too fast when Staff Sergeant Machiko called. By now the communication was wordless, each section falling into the same half-circle around the instructors in perfect order. The Staff Sergeant had never complimented them about their co-ordination, but she wasn’t ripping them for wasting her time anymore. That was nice.

 

“Platoon.” Machiko snapped. “Adequate job this morning. I saw the failures myself, but for once we got a whole section through. Good work on that, Corporal Pimniq.”

 

Their corporal shrugged. “It’s not hard when your section isn’t filled with uptown dandies in white gloves.”

 

 _“That’s the nicest thing he’s ever said about us.”_ Edano whispered. Bumi stifled a grin and he heard Lin snort back a giggle.

 

“So I see.” Machiko’s eyes narrowed and Bumi knew she had seen every infraction on their faces. He braced for the reprisal and was surprised when it didn’t come. “Well, good work Section Four.”

 

She turned back to the rest of the platoon. “Now, as you know, you are coming to the end of the twelfth week of your training. Barring a few re-tests for fitness and some personal administration issues, most of you will march-out of this establishment in three weeks’ time. To give you a brief overview of the timetable, we will spend the next two weeks conducting the defensive manoeuvres phase and then spend a few days going over parade rehearsals for the march-out ceremony. To that end I want you to compose a letter this afternoon after final gear checks.”

 

“I seriously doubt that some of these guys know how to write.” Bumi murmured. Hanzo concealed his laugh behind a cough, and Bumi could have sworn Pimniq’s face twitched dangerously close to a smile.

 

Machiko actually gave him a warning glance. “In that letter you will write to your families, wherever they may be I can guarantee we can deliver it to them, and invite them to your march-out parade. Free ferries will leave from Republic City and all major ports if they wish to attend. Alright, that’ll be all. Section commanders, see me afterwards.”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

Edano frowned over the scrawls on his page. “Shin, how do you spell ‘esteemed’?”

 

Shin glanced up from his own letter, frowning a little. “Why would you be using that in a letter?”

 

“Doesn’t a letter have to be formal?”

 

“Who’s it for?”

 

Edano glanced away. “My mother. Or ‘esteemed’ mother, rather. I haven’t written to her…well, ever. Haven’t even seen her since I left home a year ago.”

 

Shin took the letter. “Let me give you a hand with this. Alright, now if this is intended to be a mixture of apology and invitation then you want to start with a less formal tone. How about swapping out ‘esteemed’ for ‘beloved’ and then you work in the-”

 

“Now that’s a sight I never thought I’d see.” Hanzo murmured. Bumi glanced up from his own writing to see what he was talking about.

 

“What, those two working together? Haven’t you been paying attention the last couple of weeks?”

 

“It’s not that.” Hanzo frowned. “Look at them. Just talking. Joking. Acting like friends. Spirits…I think they actually might be. Friends, I mean.”

 

Bumi was surprised to see a smile suddenly appear on Hanzo’s face that was free of irony. He felt one of his own grow to match it. “I’m pretty sure Lin and Koga have stopped bickering as well.”

 

“Your dad was right.”

 

The words caught Bumi off guard. “What?”

 

Hanzo glanced at him. “About friends. You can thrive anywhere if you’ve got them.”

 

Bumi looked back to his letter, his eyes scrolling down the neat lettering stacked line upon line like the bricks of a wall. “I suppose.”

 

“Is that a letter to him?”

 

Bumi began to fold the paper. “Yes.”

 

He looked back up to see Hanzo’s frown. “What?”

 

“You’re acting a little strangely.” Hanzo snatched the letter out of his hand. “What’s in this letter that’s got you in such a mood?”

 

For a moment Bumi felt oddly furious. Hadn’t he put up with enough in the last few months? Been kidnapped? Put through exhausting and hellish training? Couldn’t he have just this one little thing to himself?

 

Hanzo must have seen the anger on his face. He hastily handed it back with an apologetic look. “Sorry, Bumi. Didn’t realise it was personal.”

 

“It’s not…I mean…it’s just something for my Dad.”

 

“Mind giving me the general outline? I’m still stuck on what the hell to put in the letter to my old man.” He waved his own blank sheet of paper with an irritated flourish. “Come on, man, spill it.”

 

Bumi glanced down at the page in his hand. “You don’t want to know.”

 

Hanzo kept pressing. “Why would I have asked if I didn’t want to know? Come on, man. Read us the goods. Oh, and if your dad is really the Avatar and you didn’t make all of that up, you should see if he can pull some strings and get us all posted together when we graduate…”

 

“Dear Father.” Bumi spoke over Hanzo rambling, if only just to shut him up. “I’m sure you and Mother have been quite worried as to my whereabouts for the last few months. Well, you can call of Aunt Toph, I’m safe.”

 

Pen waving like a sword, Hanzo was already scribbling on his letter. “Good start. Bit formal, but a good start.”

 

“I was abducted, shortly after our argument, by a group of United Forces sailors on leave in a bar. My drink was spiked and when I woke up the next morning I was halfway to Dragon Koi Island. I’ve spent the last few months in basic training, but with the end of it in sight they’re finally allowing us to write home.”

 

“Good, good. Clinical. My dad will lap this stuff up with a bit of alteration.” Hanzo looked up. “How does it end?”

 

Bumi looked at the floorboards. “…as my enlistment was involuntary…I’m writing to you to ask you to contact the authorities and have me immediately released to return home. Please give Mom my love. Signed, Bumi.”

 

He couldn’t raise his eyes to meet those of his friend. A leaden weight had settled in his neck and the floorboards suddenly seemed incredibly interesting. He was expecting Hanzo’s words, when they came, to be cutting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“If you’re angry at me then you can say so.”

 

The words were the first he’d spoken in two hours. The heavy rainfall had prevented any conversation for an hour, a lack of things to say had stifled the second. It was the first thing either Bumi or Hanzo had said for two weeks that wasn’t an awkwardly given direction or equally awkward response.

 

With two hours of sentry gone and another two hours to go, Bumi calculated that the awkwardness of starting a conversation would be far less pain than more of the same excruciating boredom.

 

Hanzo didn’t shift at first. Bumi didn’t bother repeating his statement. Either Hanzo was awake and had heard him or was asleep standing up. Either way, Bumi had said his piece.

 

“I’m not angry.” Hanzo replied, his voice as soft as the lowing of a sky bison.

 

“He speaks.” Bumi raised his eyes, trying hard not to raise his voice too high. “Surely this must be a sign of favour from the spirits.”

 

The scarred face of Hanzo had long ceased to have any surprise or horror for Bumi, yet something deep in him still shivered whenever Hanzo eyed him with a particularly baleful gaze. “You’re a funny guy, Bumi, but you’re also real damn dumb sometimes.”

 

“Funnily enough? Not the first time I’ve heard that. You guys should form a secret society.”

 

“Didn’t you ever stop and think that maybe getting drugged and tossed in that sack was the best thing that ever happened to you?” Hanzo challenged. His hand shifted his helmet backwards, his eyes tunnelling into Bumi like a set of badger moles.

 

“I got spiked and abducted, Hanzo. How could that be in anyway a good thing?”

 

Hanzo traced his scar absent mindedly. “Not at first glance, I get that. But do you think you’re any different from the rest of the strays Amaruq picked up? Look at us. Edano, Koga and Yoshi. Three young idiots with nothing better to do than go around picking fights and harassing women in bars. And Shin? Do you think anyone he knew back in Republic City would even recognise him? You needed this kind of fresh start as much as they did.”

 

“Maybe I needed to get out and see more of the world.” Bumi acknowledged, half scowling. “But I could have done that by touring the Fire Nation or sailing round the world with Uncle Sokka.”

 

“Why didn’t you do that already?” Hanzo asked, exasperated. “What did you have in Republic City that made leaving it so difficult? Face it, Bumi, you didn’t leave because you were stuck in your loop.”

 

“My loop?”

 

“We all are.” Hanzo pointed back at the rest of the platoon defensive position. “Everyone in Section Four, everyone on the Island. Everyone in the world. We all live the same day, the same week, the same years over and over again with tiny variations. Sometimes those loops are good, sometimes they’re boring, sometimes they’re ruining us. Amaruq figured we all needed something different and used whatever means he needed to drag us out of them.”

 

“What did he drag you out of then? What loop were you stuck in that you needed someone to pull you out of it?” Bumi snapped back.

 

“You really want to know?”

 

“Yeah I really want to know.”

 

“Because no one can give you any good piece of advice without you trying to pick it apart, right? That’s the Bumi way, isn’t it? Your Uncle tries to give you good advice and you ignore. Your sister tries to get you to calm down and you just pat her head and move on. Your own father tells you to maybe think about the consequences of your actions and you just assume that it’s because he’s disappointed that you’re not an airbender.”

 

Bumi clenched his fists. “Stop talking, Hanzo.”

 

Hanzo wasn’t nearly finished. “Did you ever stop and think, Bumi, that maybe things wouldn’t be so awkward with your Dad if your every interaction with him wasn’t you doing something stupid that he had to punish you for? Hell, I’m sure my relationship with my father would be awkward if every five seconds I wasn’t just flaming up my life but my little sister’s as well!”

 

“What did _you_ do?”

 

“I killed my brother!”

 

Silence fell as if a sudden cloak had been cut down atop of them. In the near petrifying stillness that followed Hanzo’s outburst came the soft rumble of distant thunder and the gentle patter of raindrops. Bumi blinked, uncertain of what to say. Hanzo, bowing his head, spared him the trouble of speaking first. “At least…that’s how I see it.”

 

Bumi looked up toward the sky, up toward the gathering clouds and the glistening sheet of the approaching deluge as it swung across the hill toward them. “I never asked you…it didn’t seem important at the time…where’d you get the scar?”

 

Hanzo glanced back at him before removing his helmet. “Maybe you earned the right to know. Maybe I owe it to you if I’m going to call you an idiot…ah, who cares? Look, my dad wasn’t in my life or my brother’s for a while. Not just while he was at sea but while he was at home as well. He and Mom didn’t talk, when they did talk all they did was fight. My brother and I just didn’t take it too well. Eriko was a firebender, I was good with my fists. We started fighting after school on most days. Little stuff, at first. We brawled with the other kids, organised a few proper matches, that kind of thing. Then one day some guy comes to us and says: ‘There’s a league for this kind of thing. Benders, non benders, doesn’t matter. All that matters is if you can fight.’”

 

“And?”

 

“And Eriko says that we should take him up on this. We go, we fight, and we start winning straight away. Guys twice our size, real Triad heavies. So what should have been obvious to me at the time is that the Triad captains whose guys we just humiliated would come and ask us to work for them instead. And I, being the idiot that I am, said no. They asked politely if I wouldn’t reconsider. Eriko told them to get lost. We patted ourselves on the back and walked home like real tough guys. Only the next time I sign up to fight I get told to take a dive in the second round to boost the takings. I thought I’d play with them a little bit. Got Eriko to bet everything on me, then I beat the living _flameo_ out of this guy. Triads picked me up after the match and said they’d carve fifty thousand yuan worth of skin off my body unless I lost the next one. Put this little mark on my face as a warning. And when Eriko found out…”

 

He paused, his voice choking. “He tried to fight them himself. And they killed him. They killed my little brother. You want to know why I enlisted, Bumi? Because I can’t look my father in the eye anymore. I had to find a way to make it right. _People_ who could help me make it right. And I thought I had…but you just want to run on back home and pretend that this didn’t feel good. That charting your own course here didn’t bring you greater happiness than fighting a hundred different brawls to get your father’s attention.”

 

Bumi pushed Hanzo back, angry and ashamed in equal measure. “None of that matters to me, Hanzo. This isn’t my home. You’re not my family. And I’m going home as soon as I can.”

 

He walked away as quickly as possible. Hanzo didn’t follow him. Part of Bumi wished that he had.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

With a relieved sigh, Bumi finally stowed the last of his gear under his bunk. Cleaning the slightest glimmer of rust or damp from well-worn equipment was a boring task, but with the end of training in sight no one wanted to piss off the instructors.

 

Word of his argument with Hanzo had spread around the section. Everyone had been looking at him with wounded expressions similar to Hanzo’s, as if Bumi was somehow betraying them just by wanting to go home.

 

Well hang them all. He’d made his decision. The letter was already en route to Air Temple Island. It was too late to change his mind now.

 

“Recruit Bumi!”

 

Sergeant Machiko was standing next to the bunk, for once not looking like she was barely containing a quiet rage. Instead she looked calm, almost concerned. “Recruit Bumi, may I talk to you for a moment?”

 

Bumi blinked. _‘May’? A request? Not ‘outside, maggot’?_ “Yes, Staff Sergeant!”

 

Machiko’s lips twitched as if something had tempted her into a state close to amusement. “You may speak at a normal volume for the duration of this conversation, Recruit.”

 

“Yes…! I mean, yes, Sergeant.” Bumi coughed to conceal the awkward twitch in his voice.

 

Machiko led the way outside, Bumi cautiously following. The eyes of the rest of the platoon followed him with something between curiosity and pity. If the last three months had drilled in one lasting less, no one walked away unscathed from a one-on-one session with the Drill Sergeant.

 

Once they reached the exit of the hut, the Staff Sergeant gestured down toward the beach. “Let’s take a walk.”

 

Bumi’s twitches were rapidly increasing. No one ever just went for a walk with the Drill Sergeant, either. It didn’t stop him from walking to her left and stiffly marching down toward the beach that had become his waking nightmare. Once they reached the waves, the Drill Sergeant did something that nearly gave him an aneurysm. She took off her cap and sat down in the sand before pulling off her boots. “You’ve done well in your training, Recruit. Corporal Pimniq believes you’re a natural leader.”

 

“It’s you’re example that I try to emulate, Staff Sergeant.” It was awkward to say but it wasn’t mindless flattery in Bumi’s head. Machiko seemed to understand.

 

“You can relax, Recruit.” Machiko stood up and began dipping her toes in the water. “The waves help me think. You can take your boots off as well.”

 

Bumi shuffled awkwardly. “I’d rather not, Staff Sergeant.”

 

Machiko glanced at him and this time there was no mistaking it. There _was_ something resembling amusement on her face. “Sometimes I forget when I was like after Basic. How long it took me to lighten up when all was said and done. It’ll be good to rotate back to a regular unit.”

 

If Bumi hadn’t been unnerved before, he was now. Sergeant Machiko never shared anything personal with worthless recruits. “I…I’m afraid I don’t understand, Sergeant.”

 

“No? Hmm…” Machiko clicked her tongue. “Not as bright as I hoped, Recruit Bumi. Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

 

“Sergeant?”

 

“The purpose of Basic Training, Recruit. Have you figured it out yet?”

 

Bumi had studied it word for word, determined not to have to run the Gauntlet again. “To instil in the recruit a sense of discipline, purpose and sound judgement. To prepare them, in all ways possible, for the trials of battle and the…”

 

Machiko shook her head, disappointed. “I think we did our job a little too well with you. Three months ago you would have told me exactly what you thought, no matter what the consequences. I’ll make this easier on you. Break it down for me in terms that a child could understand.”

 

Bumi finally saw it. It was just another test. The Drill Sergeant had prepared one more for him, somehow. He was a little crestfallen he hadn’t spotted it ahead of time. He turned back to the doctrine answer and considered it for a further moment. “To teach civilians how to…act like soldiers?”

 

“You can say it with confidence, Recruit, because you’ve hit the nail with your head.” Machiko turned her head, eyes tracing over the lines of the huts that made up the barracks and the mess hall. “How to _act_ like soldiers, because it _is_ mostly an act. How to live, walk, talk, eat, breathe and _fight_ like a single organism. We train you to go from self-centred individuals to people that would fight and die for the soldier next to you.”

 

“I saw, Bumi, from a very early stage in your training that you were one of the smarter ones. What you did with your section, splitting them up into pairs that worked together instead of against, was a stroke of brilliance. You went from dragging the platoon down to dragging it ahead. That kind of initiative is rare. Rarer still is to see it matched with humility. Which was why I was so surprised to see this.”

 

She fished two items out of her pocket. The first was a was a small bottle filled with amber liquid. The second was a letter. The envelope was opened. “Forgive me for the breach of your privacy. I heard the joke from Amaruq that he’d had a press-ganged recruit who’d claimed to be the son of Avatar Aang. When I saw the letter addressed to Air Temple Island…I just had to know.”

 

Bumi would have been furious that she’d read his mail if he hadn’t been so confused as to her current behaviour. “Staff Sergeant, I…I don’t know what you want.”

 

Machiko cracked open the lid of the bottle and took a hefty swig. “You’re really the son of Avatar Aang?”

 

“One of them.” Bumi replied, a half forgotten bitterness creeping into his voice.

 

Machiko handed him the bottle. “Have a sip. I think it’s time we had a talk.”

 

Bumi didn’t particularly want a drink, yet declining a polite invitation from a woman under no obligation to give them didn’t seem a wise decision. He took a swig and handed the bottle back. Machiko accepted it before speaking again. “So you want your Dad to get you out of all this. Get you out of the United Forces and back to Air Temple Island. Fair enough, except according to Captain Amaruq you were desperate to get away from it when he found you.”

 

Bumi sighed. “Ma’am, I’ve already had this conversation with...”

 

“Stand easy, Bumi.” Machiko reassured him. A faint smile played on her lips. “My question isn’t about why you want to leave this island. I just wanted to ask you why you’re so angry at your father.”

 

Almost, just almost, Bumi wished she actually _was_ yelling at him over some infraction. “I…I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“This letter, Bumi.” The offending item was still in her hand. “This isn’t a letter from a loving son to a close father. Stiff, formal and clinical. I’ve written reprimands with more warmth.”

 

Bumi was silent, his mind searching for a response that wouldn’t get him into any further awkwardness. Machiko continued. “Now you can call me fool if I’m wrong, but something tells me that a non-bending son off the last airbender and the Grandmaster of the Southern Waterbenders may have a few small issues here and there. He might feel that he’s under-appreciated, under-valued, under-loved. He might envy his siblings and hate himself for it because he really loves them deep down. He might resent his father for a lack of attention and act out in order to get that attention again. There might have been words said that shouldn’t have been uttered.”

 

With nothing to say, Bumi finally sat down. Machiko pressed the bottle into his hands. He took a sip and then looked at her. “That’s about it, yeah.”

 

Machiko nodded. “I think deep down the real reason you want him to get you out of here isn’t because you hate it, not anymore. It’s because underneath everything you’re wondering if every second you spend away from him is another that his love for you fades or transfers somewhere else. Like most youngsters I’ve ever known, Bumi, you think that attention equals affection.”

 

“Doesn’t it?” The question wasn’t loaded with anything but simple curiosity.

 

She shook her head in response. “Not in the way you think. Oh, I’m not denying there was a favourite that wasn’t you. All parents have them. My dad had a favourite, my sister has hers, Pimniq’s probably got one as well. Are you going to spend the rest of your life jealous of someone else’s love?”

 

“How do you even know?” Bumi challenged, his patience finally stretched. “You’re prying into things you know nothing about. You don’t know my father or what he’s like. You don’t know what I’ve had to live with since I was a child. How do you know anything about _my_ life?”

 

Machiko cracked a true smile at that. “I don’t know how young you think I am, Bumi, but I’ve got more than enough years under my belt to make some fairly accurate guesses. I’ve been around the world four times on six different ships. I’ve fought three campaigns across two oceans and crawled my way out of a bug infested desert with a broken arm and a leaking flask. And I’ve seen enough of the Avatar to know everything I’ll ever need about his character.”

 

“You knew my Dad?” Bumi asked despite his better judgement.

 

“You mean was I friends with him? No. But I know him, Bumi. As well as I know the mind of any courageous man.” Machiko stood, her eyes fixed on the horizon and the slowly setting sun.

 

“I grew up in the Northern Isles of the Fire Nation, born in the last few years of the war. My father enlisted as a young man. He wasn’t a firebender, just another foot soldier in an army which seemed to have an endless appetite for them. He saw his first action at the Battle of Flooded Fields, where half a division was slaughtered in an Earth Kingdom ambush. He survived long enough for Colonel Akari’s cavalry to lead the breakout and went on to serve under her during the Siege of Ba Sing Se. He was in the assault company of Captain Lu-Ten when they held the breach against the counter-attack. He was there for the Fall _and_ Recapture of Omashu. And when the war was over he came marching home again.”

 

Machiko passed the bottle to Bumi. “He never talked about it to my mother or to me. For years he just…bottled it up. Then he finally joined a veterans group, began visiting it regularly. For a while things got better. He smiled more, the nightmares eased, everything was going to be alright.”

 

The bottle passed back, this time Machiko took a deeper swig. “Then some local councillor decided that veteran’s groups were breeding pro-Ozai sentiment, so he ordered them to disband. They refused. The matter was passed upwards, eventually reaching the Fire Lord’s desk. Maybe he was busy, maybe he didn’t understand, either way he ordered the disbandment order carried out. A group of veterans began to protest, someone important decided that a protest was the same as a rebellion. To suppress four or five hundred hard done by vets they sent a combined arms brigade as a show of force. Five thousand soldiers with tank and blimp support.”

 

The warm glow of the rum was spreading across Bumi’s chest. He shook his head, disbelief clouding his voice. “I can’t believe Un…Fire Lord Zuko would authorise something like that.”

 

“He was a very young Fire Lord, and I have no doubt that some elements of the higher command saw it as a chance to stretch the legs of an army that had been dormant for years now. Either way, Dad’s little protest suddenly found him staring down a hundred firebenders of the Royal Army with a walking stick, him and the rest of his mates. The old fools were too proud to back down, and whatever green Colonel they had commanding that force almost escalated the whole thing into a massacre.”

 

She closed her eyes. “I can still picture Avatar Aang flying into the middle of that mess. Maybe I didn’t think it at the time, but years later all I can think is _‘he was so young’_. Barely eighteen, barely a man, and _he_ was the one with the responsibility of ending it without bloodshed. He didn’t flinch, he didn’t pause, he simply walked in between an angry mob and a nervous battalion without a single weapon and without a single ally. To this day it’s still the bravest thing I’ve ever seen. Screw physical courage, he accepted the weight of hundreds of innocent men and women on his shoulders and didn’t slow down.”

 

“Of course, that didn’t stop me from trying to tackle him.”

 

Bumi choked and spat out his rum. “You…how old were you?”

 

“Oh, a snotty and bratty twelve year old, to be sure.” Machiko shook her head. “But I was a fireball, and my Dad’s precious darling into the bargain, so when I saw the Avatar of legend, a man who could flatten a mountain if he chose, walking toward my father, I charged headlong out of my mother’s arms with a view to taking him out myself.”

 

Bumi couldn’t help the grin that spread at the dual mental image of Staff Sergeant Machiko as a twelve year old child and that same child attempting to tackle the most powerful being in the world. “How did that work out?”

 

“My father stopped me. Ran right past the Avatar and scooped me up himself. He turned to face us, but he looked at me first. He said…he said: ‘Hi, my name’s Aang.’ I must have looked like a stunned fish, but eventually I said ‘My name’s Machi’. He just gave this big, goofy smile and said he was happy to meet me. Then he asked my father what he wanted.”

 

She took the bottle back out of Bumi’s hands. “No demands, no threats, just asking why we were here. Dad said he just wanted someone to listen. The Avatar said: _I’m here. I’m listening_.”

 

“So Dad talked. He talked about his friends and how they all signed up on the same day. How they trained together, marched together, had their first drinks together as men and women of the Royal Army. He talked about seeing those same friends smashed to pieces by Earth Kingdom boulders in the first engagement and how he tried to save my mother’s sister by dragging her out of the ambush, only to realise she’d been killed by the first blow. He talked about Ba Sing Se and how General Iroh used to drink tea and sing with his men before and after every battle. He talked about how the heart of the army broke when Prince Lu Ten died.”

 

Machiko turned her face away from Bumi, her voice thickening. “They sat and talked in the middle of all of it, that old soldier and that young boy. And when my father’s heart grew too full with the pain, he cried, and the Avatar wept with him. And in the end the Avatar understood. My father didn’t volunteer because he hated the Earth Kingdom, or held the people of the Water Tribes in contempt, or thought the Air Nomads had deserved their fate. He went to war because he was a foolish young man, because his friends were going, because their Nation had promised them adventure in distant lands. But in the end they fought not for their nation or their Fire Lord. In the bloodiest days, in the darkest valleys…they were fighting for each other.”

 

Bumi looked away. It felt wrong to watch the iron crack, as if something mighty and impenetrable was being weakened from the inside. “And when they returned home and tried to fit back in with villages that had half-forgotten them…tried to set hands which were once soaked with the blood of friends and enemies to tilling the earth or raising children…each other was the only real thing they had left.”

 

“Avatar Aang stood up, walked over to the Royal Army forces and informed them that the crisis was over, that he would resolve the veteran issues with the Fire Lord himself. Then he left for a week. When he came back to our village he came with a party of Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe soldiers. My father and his comrades sat with their former enemies, drank tea and ate biscuits before sharing their stories over whiskey and wine. They talked of great battles, of noble leaders and beloved friends long gone. And I realised that the horrors of war did not stop being horrors just because they were felt by the opposing side.”

 

Machiko wiped her sleeve over her face and looked back, clear eyed, to Bumi. “The Republic was formed a year later. When many were asking if it truly needed a military, Avatar Aang insisted that it would need one just as much as it need a police force. He said that it would help balance out the other armies of the nations, and that, for better or worse, everyone had a place in the new republic, even soldiers. I enlisted into the UF as soon as I was old enough, and spent the last twenty years trying to live up to the example that Aang set for me. You said you tried to emulate me? It’s your own father’s behaviour that you’re copying, just a little modified for instructional purposes.”

 

Something stung deep in Bumi’s chest. “So this was all about convincing me I’m my father’s son after all? That no matter what I do, it all leads back to him?”

 

The sergeant sighed. “You didn’t listen to a damn thing I said, did you? Bumi, what I’m trying to tell you is very simple. All your life, all you’ve heard is that your father is powerful and wise, and that you have a lot to live up to. ‘If you’re half the man he is, you’ll be a credit to your family.’ I bet he never said anything of the kind to you, instead you let the words of others twist your perception of him. You never once stopped to think about where his _real_ power came from, or _what_ made him wise.”

 

“Your father is not a great man because he is the Avatar, Private Bumi. He is a great man because he listens, like you listen. He understands, like you understand. And he is kind. Shin, Edano, Hahn and Hanzo have found their place here because of _you_. You say you don’t feel like his son because you’re not a bender, yet your every action shows that you could not be any more like him if you were the strongest airbender who ever lived.”

 

Bumi almost yelped as she seized his shoulders and dragged him in. The same eyes which had challenged him for four months now gazed into him with fire roaring behind them. “You hate being in your father’s shadow, but the only thing keeping you there is your own mind. You have the foundations of your own greatness in your heart, and the will and courage to do unfathomable good in this world. To take that foolishly big heart of yours and let its beat shape your life so that one day the legends of Bumi might be sung with the same acclaim as those of Aang.”

 

She bowed her head, looking exhausted from her own words. “Or, you can whine for your father to get you out of here, go back to Republic City and keep on getting into bar brawls to try and get his attention. Always wondering if you could have been someone amazing.”

 

Machiko swayed a little as she climbed off the sand. “Keep the rest of the bottle, don’t get caught with it. Make up your own mind about what to do. That’s one thing the military can’t take away. At the end of the day, everyone makes their choices.”

 

Bumi stayed seated on the beach until the sun had sunken deep below the horizon and the moon began its nightly vigil.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

A letter addressed to Air Temple Island left the next day with the rest of the morning post. Staff Sergeant Machiko watched it go. Her face didn’t shift a single muscle.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

March out week arrived without fanfare. Training equipment was turned in at the armoury and dress uniforms were fitted.

 

“The main colour of the United Forces’ enlisted dress uniform is steel grey.” Machiko explained. “However those who wish to honour their heritage may request to wear a sash with the colours of their parents’ or grandparents’ home nation.”

 

Some asked for blue, green and red sashes, Hanzo and Shin both asked for ones the same steel grey as the rest of the dress uniform. Bumi had quietly whispered his own request to the tailor and was busy trying on coats until he found the right fit.

 

“I suppose you’ll be leaving at the end of the week?”

 

They were the first words Hanzo had spoken to him in days. Bumi glanced at him and offered a curt nod. “I think we all will.”

 

“Leaving here? Yeah, I guess we will.” Hanzo muttered.

 

He took a step forward. “Look, Bumi…I don’t want to leave things poorly between us. It was wrong of me to lash out like I did. I’ve been assigned to the Marine detachment of the _Waverider_ , they’re bound for a nine month patrol of the Eastern Seas. It’d be good to look you up again once I’m back in Republic City.”

 

Bumi glanced at him coolly. The memory of Hanzo’s accusations still stung. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

 

Hanzo swallowed heavily. “If that’s the way it is…”

 

“That’s the way it is.” Bumi confirmed.

 

“Bumi!” Pimniq’s voice thundered through the clothing store. “Where’s Recruit Bumi?”

 

“Here, Corporal!” Bumi raised his hand. Pimniq stormed toward him, a slip of paper clutched in his hand.

 

“Got a message here addressed to you from Air Temple Island.” His voice was gruff and his eyes were angry. He’d heard the story as well, Bumi would guess. “You want to open it now or later?”

 

Bumi took it off him. “If it says what I think it does then there’s no need to wait.”

 

Four Section, Hanzo, Edano, Koga, Yoshi, Shin, Lin and Hahn, had all somehow clustered around without him even noticing. The rest of the platoon was straining their ears to hear his words as he opened the envelope. Extracting the single sheet of paper, Bumi held it up. The writing was uneven, as if his father’s hand had been shaking whilst writing it.

 

“Read it aloud.” Pimniq commanded. Bumi complied.

 

 _“My dear son.”_ He began. _“Your mother and I were relieved beyond all words to receive your letter. We have both been sick with worry, Kya has been running all over the city and countryside searching for you and Tenzin has been inconsolable. I must confess that when you said you had been press-ganged by the United Forces I was almost beside myself with an anger I have not felt in quite some time. Knowing you are alive and in good spirits brings us all an unmatched happiness.”_

 

Pimniq grunted. “Got a way with words, your old man.”

 

Bumi half smiled. “Yeah…he kind of does.”

 

 _“After a few quick words with Sokka and Toph I am relieved to say that it will be a simple matter to grant your request...”_ Bumi raised his eyes to meet Pimniq’s, then moved them sideways to Hanzo’s. His frown suddenly changed to a smirk. _“…and have you and the rest of your friends transferred to the same posting upon completion of your training. As I understand it you will all be serving as Marines about the patrol frigate ‘Waverider’, about to depart on a…”_

“Hah!” Pimniq’s crow roared louder than the murmur coming from the platoon. Hanzo’s expression changed from surly to surprised as Bumi’s words sunk in. Bumi finished in a louder tone. _“We send our best wishes and look forward to seeing you soon. As we speak Tenzin is zooming about the house helping your mother and sister pack. As you asked I passed along your private message for him and he’s scarce sat still since he read it…”_

“Alright, alright.” Pimniq coughed. There was something in his gimlet eyes that on a lesser man might have been sentimentality of some kind. “The rest is for you alone. My…apologies, Recruit.”

 

Bumi didn’t know whether he was more stunned by Pimniq saying ‘sorry’ or by Hanzo and Shin tackling him and the rest of the section piling on top.

 

“You sorry bastard.” Hanzo rubbed his knuckles in his short hair. “You let us all think you were jumping ship.”

 

Fighting his way out of the pile, Bumi grinned at them. “I got you idiots this far. Did you really think I was going to let you go on a round the world trip without me?”

 

“You were going to.” Hahn pointed out, the older man’s sarcasm slipping for a moment. Bumi’s grin faded as he considered the words.

 

“Yeah…yeah I was.” He sighed. “In the end I had to decide what I wanted for myself and…who I wanted to be. Maybe I still don’t know. But whatever I’m looking for? It’s not back on Air Temple Island.”

 

Only Hanzo even heard him properly over the whooping and laughing. But over the din Bumi’s eyes met Staff Sergeant Machiko’s. And in a moment that left him rubbing his eyes and wondering if they were playing up on him, Bumi could have sworn she gave him an approving smile.

 

**-TLoB-**

“Where is he?” Tenzin asked urgently, standing up on his toes to try and get a better look at the platoon in formation before them. “I can’t see him properly.”

 

“Wait for them to march on the parade ground, Tenzin.” Kya pulled her younger brother down, patiently straightening his jacket again for the third time. “Dad, can you see him?”

 

“Not yet.” Aang replied, his eyes nervously scanning the distant platoon.

 

To his left he heard Toph sigh. “They all look so similar with those haircuts.”

 

“Yes, I know, it’s impossible to…” Aang paused, then glared at her. “Did Sokka put you up to that one?”

 

Toph gave him a broad grin, even as she pulled Suyin back from where she attempting to tie knots in the hair of the woman in front of her. “I came up with it on my own. I may have gotten the general idea from Katara, though.”

 

Aang gave his wife a mournful glare. She gave him a grin. “Just relax, dear. You’ll see Bumi soon enough.”

 

“Aye.” Sokka said, his voice grim as his eyes scanned a row of United Forces officers seated near the front of the parade grounds. They were the captains of the ships that the new recruits would be posted to. One of them was a tall man with a broad back and shoulders like a sky bison. “And when I get my hands on Amaruq soon enough I’m going to make him regret a…”

 

“They’re marching on!” Tenzin suddenly called, his finger pointed toward the approaching platoon. “I still can’t see him.”

 

Beside him Lin was straining her eyes. “I think I see him. Toward the back with the rest of the tall ones. See?”

 

“Not yet.” Tenzin rose so high on his toes Aang wondered if he wasn’t airbending to keep himself up. “I don’t…yes…wait…yes, I see him! There he is!”

 

“I still don’t see him.” Aang followed his son’s finger but couldn’t see the target. “Which one is…”

 

Beside him he heard Katara’s gasp. “Oh Aang…look at the colours!”

 

It took a second to sink in. The platoon was clad in grey uniforms, neatly tailored coats with high collars and shining belts. Most wore sashes of grey to match, others wore blue, green and red as well. Only one, a tall young man with eyes of steel grey, wore a sash of orange with golden trim.

 

“Air Nation colours.” Aang whispered. The words were weak in his suddenly dry throat. “He’s wearing Air Nation colours.”

 

The rest of the spectators suddenly had their view suddenly interrupted by a previously dignified man of middle age jumping up and down like a child and whooping like a madman. “That’s Bumi! That’s my boy!”

 

The young boy next to him joined in with similar glee, their demented shouts almost drowning out the martial strains to which the platoon was marching. Toward the rear of the formation, a young man in a grey coat and an orange sash ducked his head a little, a little out of embarrassment but mostly to hide the huge smile that swept across his face as the cheers of his family inspired a whole wave of joyous shouting as the formerly silent crowd called out the names of their sons and daughters and put to shame the band with the cacophony of their applause.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

**UNITED FORCES SHIP _WAVERIDER_**

**EN ROUTE TO PATROL IN EASTERN SEAS**

**ONE WEEK LATER**

“If I didn’t know better I’d say that you were born with that stupid grin on your face, _Private_ Bumi.” Hanzo startled Bumi out of his reverie as he leaned against the rail next to him.

 

It had been three days since cast off, the eight freshly minted UF Marine Corps privates joining the rest of the ship’s detachment amid the frantic activity that accompanied the start of a cruise. They’d been broken up to different sections but Hanzo and Bumi had managed to stick together. Bumi had found himself in an inexorably good mood, conducting the usual scut work with an unusual good grace. He’d been humming during morning drills, whistling as he helped scrub the deck and even singing a small song to himself as he helped Hanzo clean the armoury.

 

“What can I say?” He shrugged, resuming his position on the railing. “It’s the Water Tribe in me. There’s sea in my blood.”

 

“And wind as well?” Hanzo asked slyly.

 

Bumi gave him a reproachful look. “Really? That was the best you could do?”

 

Hanzo looked as innocent as it was possible for a man to look with a large scar on his face. Bumi sighed, the smile leaving him for a few seconds. “We talked. It was good. Whatever problems we have aren’t going to just vanish, but we didn’t leave anything unsaid. I think we’ll be alright in time.”

 

Hanzo nodded. “That makes me happier than you can know.”

 

“I thought your dad didn’t come?” Bumi hesitated to broach the subject but Hanzo didn’t seem annoyed.

 

“He didn’t. He sent a message though. Said he was stuck in the Fire Nation on Navy business by the time my letter reached him. Couldn’t have made it even on the fastest steamer.” Hanzo said, his eyes resting on the waves. “He said he was proud of me, that he looked forward to seeing me again, and that he couldn’t forgive me.”

 

Bumi froze.

 

Hanzo hastily added. “Because there was nothing to forgive. _‘You didn’t kill your brother. And I beg your forgiveness for ever letting you think that I blamed you.’_ Also said to look up my cousin when we reach the Southern Earth Kingdom.”

 

“Oh, of course.” Bumi kept a straight face. “The most important part of the letter I’m sure.”

 

Hanzo softly slugged him in the shoulder. “How was the rest of the family?”

 

“Uncle Sokka kept trying to slug Captain Amaruq. Only stopped when I told him that I wanted to do it myself someday. Mom cried a little, Kya wants me to get her a dress from the Fire Nation and Tenzin wants everything from a shell from the Southern Seas to a pet platypus-bear. Auntie Toph just kept laughing at everyone.”

 

“It’s crazy for me to think about it.” Hanzo sighed. “To be raised by heroes like them. Calling living legends your family.”

 

“You know a few months I might have blown up at you for that.” Bumi grinned wryly.

 

“But not now?”

 

“I’ve had some time to think about it.” Bumi admitted. “A lot of time. And the more I think about it the more I realise that yeah, it is kind of awesome. I’ve been getting it wrong for years. There’s never been any pressure on me to be as great as my parents, that was all me. But with what they taught me – how they raised me? I can at least be good, right?”

 

“Speak for yourself.” Hanzo stood up and stretched his back. “I intend to be the greatest hero of the United Forces someday. Watch and see, Bumi. You’ll be the first witness to the Legend of Hanzo.”

 

Their laughter drew the attention of an irate Gunnery Sergeant who snapped at them to get back to work.

 

Bumi was still smiling even as the rain began to fall and the ship battened down for the first of the storms that would toss them during the passage to the Eastern Seas. He thought of Air Temple Island and the warm fire that would be waiting at the end of the voyage. He thought of Tenzin and how he’d shriek with delight as he tossed him off the edge of the jetty. He thought of Kya and how she’d promised to have a letter waiting for him in every port. He thought of Mom and her promise to have his favourite foods waiting to welcome him home. He thought of his father’s proud smile and his heart grew warm. He started humming cheerfully to himself as the storm raged.

 

**-TLoB-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, sorry about the delay. Life has been crazier than normal.
> 
> Essentially this completes the first of Bumi's chronological stories in canon, that he was kidnapped into the United Forces in a potato sack. I'm on the fence about which one I want to cover next, but rest assured I'm already racking my brains about how to translate the wild stories of canon into real events that somehow match up exactly with his tall tales. At the moment I've got about four two-to-three chapter arcs planned with a couple of interludes covering


	4. The Foundations, Part One: The Far Side of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every journey begins with a single step, every voyage begins with the first breeze, every legend has its foundation...

The Legend of Bumi

Chapter Four: The Foundations

Part One: The Far Side of the World

 

****

_“His reputation, particularly in his later years, almost equalled that of the Avatar. Famed in each nation for his bravery on a dozen different battlefields, his new abilities as an airbender elevated him to a true living legend. But before he covered himself in glory at the Battle of the Si Wong Desert, before creating and perfecting the Charging Bison style, before winning the record for the longest unassisted airbender flight (and losing it to me a year later), he was merely Private Bumi, a Marine fresh out of boot camp, his only fighting experience brawling with thugs in seedy bars. His first adventure, the one that began the unlikely and improbable (but ironically accurate) myths surrounding him, was nearly his last. It began in the Great Southern Ocean off the coast of the Earth Kingdom, where a chain of barren islands lead to a mountain range un-explored for centuries. A place some call The Foundations of the World.” Meelo, Master of the Southern Temple. **‘The Making of Heroes, Book Two.’**_

****

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“Well?” Hanzo asked.

 

“Well what?” Bumi asked back.

 

“Well what do you think?” Hanzo asked patiently.

 

“What do I think?”

 

“That is what I just asked.”

 

“About what?”

 

“What do you mean about what?”

 

Bumi rubbed his head. “You asked what I thought. But given there are several objects present and events ongoing that I could have thoughts about, I’m going to need you to be specific. I don’t need much. A nod in the direction of whatever you want discussed, two extra words at the end of your first question, a subtle flick of your eyes. You got a lot of choices to work with, that’s all I’m saying.”

 

“Alright, alright.” Hanzo sounded like he regretted asking in the first place. “What do you think about them?” This time he raised a hand to point at the towering blades of white stone rising from the ocean like the teeth of a great beast.

 

Perhaps it was petty, but Bumi enjoyed taking his time as he considered the objects in question. They’d been visible for a day now, turning from tiny dots on the horizon to the imposing monoliths through which the _Waverider_ now passed. “They’re alright.”

 

“Alright?” The note of disbelief in his voice made Bumi grin. “Bumi, you’re looking at the oldest and greatest wonder of the world. In ancient times the Foundations were almost worshipped as gods. Many still believe that a powerful spirit is bound to them and offers his protection to…”

 

“Whoa, whoa!” Bumi held up his hands, his surrender bringing Hanzo’s tirade to a rapid halt. “My bad, okay? What I really meant was: ‘they’re pretty alright’.”

 

Hanzo just growled. Bumi hastened to continue. “They’re the biggest damn rocks I’ve ever seen. That good?”

 

“Better.” Hanzo’s own smile sprang up. “You’re easily baited, you know that?”

 

Bumi grunted. “Should have guessed. You do outraged a little too well.”

 

“Must be my pouting lips.” Hanzo turned his attention back to the sea. “Anyway, you should still be a lot more honoured than you are. Until recently only a few ships could actually come this way.”

 

That _wqs_ a surprise for Bumi. “Isn’t it the fastest way through the Great Southern Ocean?”

 

“Fastest.” Hanzo agreed. “Deadliest as well. The weather can turn on a one yuan coin and the winds can disappear for days. If you’re relying on a sail you’re a fool. If you’ve got less than a full hold of coal you’re an idiot.”

 

“You’ve been this way before?”

 

“With my Dad. It was a proving voyage to show that merchant steamers could safely traverse the Foundations as long as they had proper fuel.” Hanzo confirmed. “I was very young, hid in the cabin for the worst of the storms.”

 

“Well, if you feel like hiding again…” Bumi left off the rest of the joke as Hanzo slugged him in the shoulder.

 

“Ha ha.” Hanzo replied. “Well, Mr. ‘Half Nomad-Half Tribesman’, we’ll see how well you do when the _Rider’s_ almost flipped over by a swell that comes out of nowhere and nearly…”

 

“Private Bumi!”

 

Both Marines snapped to attention as a voice sounded from above them. Lieutenant Commander Jingim was leaning over the bridge railing, the half-smile on his thin lips indicating he’d been listening in to their conversation. “If I may trouble you for a moment.” He called. “Lieutenant Sidao is late for his watch. If you could retrieve him from the officer’s mess and escort him back here I would be most grateful.”

 

Bumi snapped off a sharp salute. “At once, sir!”

 

He was gone in a flash, nimbly ducking through a hatch into the ship’s interior. At only two hundred and fifty feet long, it usually didn’t take long to get anywhere on the _Waverider_. The only problem was getting stuck in a crowded corridor. With well over her usual staffing, the Waverider’s hallways had been awfully crowded since Whaletail Island.

 

Sidao was exactly where Jingim had predicted, the burly lieutenant laughing over tea and cards with a group of the _Waverider’s_ junior officers in the ship’s wardroom. Bumi came to attention as soon as he entered the door. “Begging your pardon, Lieutenant Sidao. Lieutenant Commander Jingim requests your immediate presence on the bridge”

 

Sidao barely spared him a glance. “Tell him I’ll be along shortly.”

 

“Begging your pardon.” Bumi’s voice indicated he begged no such thing. “But the Lieutenant Commander requested I escort you myself.” His voice lowered a little. “He did indicate that you were late for your watch.”

 

Sidao glowered at him, Bumi stared back with the innocence of a day old bison. Sidao might not have hesitated to throw his weight around with a boot private, it was a different matter to disobey a direct order from the ship’s second in command.

 

Eventually Sidao stood, retrieving his jacket from the hook before nodding at his messmates. “I’ll return later, gentlemen, we can pick up the game again then.”

 

It might have been more polite, Bumi thought, to invite them to continue without him. Then again, Lieutenant Sidao was not renowned for his good manners. The surly Marine officer was not a part of the _Waverider’s_ usual contingent, and his arrival had caused something of a split in the ship’s officers. Tall, well muscled, and with a chest full of decorations, the earthbender lieutenant had become immensely popular with the junior officers and their dreams of glory. The veterans, like Lieutenant Commander Jingim and Bumi’s direct commander, Lieutenant Yune, plainly held nothing but antipathy and slight amusement for their garrulous guest. It was an opinion Bumi had quickly come to share.

 

“Ah, Lieutenant Sidao.” The lieutenant commander greeted their arrival with an exaggerated smile. “How kind of you to arrive only fifteen minutes late for your watch.”

 

Sidao saluted, his tone slightly subdued. “My apologies, sir. I lost track of the time.”

 

“Seems to be a habit with you.” Jingim’s tone was light, but his eyes were sharp. “As this is the third time either myself or another officer has cause to send for you.”

 

It had been a mistake to nettle him, Bumi realised. One rebuke Sidao had tolerated, but a second one made his hackles rise. “You sailors keep a damned awkward schedule. Hard to tell when one watch ends and another begins.”

 

“The shipboard Marines of the _Waverider_ seem to have no such difficulties. Private Bumi was five minutes early for his shift, as I recall.”

 

Sidao’s gaze was filled with barely restrained animosity. “Private Bumi is clearly eager to please.”

 

“A trait not lacking in value.” Jingim finished his chiding with a dismissive sigh. “In the future, Lieutenant, please recall that you are a guest upon this vessel and I am its executive officer. I can just as easily assign you to the midnight shift as I can to the morning one. That will be all.”

 

Bumi was glad of the chance to escape back down to his watch-post with Hanzo. The two of them shared a brief smile and a silent laugh before continuing to scan the horizon. It was a small spark of entertainment in what had proven to be a morning of excruciating boredom. Certainly the entire cruise had been something of a let-down as far as Bumi was concerned. The briefing given by Commander Kim two weeks earlier had promised something far more exciting.

 

“The Republic Council itself!” Kim had roared. “In consult with the governments of the Fire Nation, the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes, has decided to increase the anti-piracy duties of the United Republic Armed Forces! The _Waverider,_ the newest and fastest frigate in the fleet is to be the first ship sent to aid in this endeavour!”

 

The rest of the _Waverider’s_ crew had shouted back their approval. _“Aye!”_

 

“We sail for the Great Southern Ocean and the Foundations of the World. There, we shall hunt down the pirate lord Shan Yu and his fleet of marauders and strike them from the seas!”

 

_“Aye!”_

 

“And at the end of our voyage, when the merchants may sail freely once more upon the sea, let the names they drink to be ours! Let the glory of the victory be ours! And let the tales told of our bravery forever bring honour to the name of the _Waverider_!”

 

The cheers had been almost deafening, even to Bumi who was shouting as loud as any of the others. At the time he was sure they’d be sailing into constant action and nonstop excitement, duelling with pirates upon the high seas. Weeks later and the only duel he’d had was with the cook over the quality of breakfast.

 

“What really bites me about all of this isn’t the time we have to spend out here.” Hanzo sighed to Bumi. “Or the food, or the storms. It’s sharing a ship with all the extras.”

 

“You don’t like cramming Sidao and his platoon into our sleeping quarters?” Bumi chirped back. “Splitting the rations and getting in the way?”

 

Hanzo closed his eyes and gave an exaggerated groan. “These Whaletail Island garrison Marines are too used to the land. Accustomed to full bellies and room to stretch their legs. They don’t think like the regulars. Even coming out of boot camp is better preparation for close quarters living than that.”

 

The words made sense enough to Bumi. It didn’t particularly bother him to share such confined space or dine on sparse rations. He’d always shared a room with either Kya, Tenzin or any number of extra Air Acolytes. Truth be told it was more the complaints. All day, every day, any foot set in the main quarters for the Marines would invite a barrage of griping from the extra platoon. Logically, Bumi knew they needed the extra numbers. But that didn’t stop his ears from aching with the strain of the noise.

 

“It’ll ease up once we take the first pirate ship.” Bumi reassured him. “We’ll offload the crew as we go onto the prizes we capture. They’ll sail ‘em back to Whaletail to be re-fitted and re-crewed for passage back to their owners in the Republic. And we’ll all have our share of the prize money waiting for us at the end of the voyage.”

 

“Small comfort now.”

 

“A comfort nonetheless.” Bumi patted his shoulder. “Now do you want…what’s that?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“That…that’s…that thing right over there!” The words were lost on the tip of Bumi’s tongue. “That’s…that’s a…”

 

“Sail!” Hanzo finally found the word. “Sail ho! Sail ho!”

 

“Sail ho!” Bumi joined in his shout.

 

Sidao appeared the bridge railing an instant later. “Where? What can you see?”

 

“Three points off the port bow.” Bumi pointed. “Near the bottom of that spire.”

 

Sidao lifted a telescope to his eye. “I see it…wait…ah…”

 

He lowered his glass. “It’s just a trading junk. I recognise the colours. She’s the _Stalwart Pine_ , sailing out of Whaletail. She’s on her outbound passage to the south ports of the Earth Kingdom.”

 

Bumi and Hanzo glanced at each other. Hanzo voiced their thoughts first. “Sir…aren’t our orders to stop and search any ships we find in the Foundations?”

 

Sidao frowned down at them. “Not that I need to explain, but I clearly recognise both the ship and the flag. I’ve done business with Captain Hai before, and know his helmsman and second officer well. I’ll spare them the indignity of a search.”

 

“But that doesn’t….sir!” Bumi’s frustration nearly bubbled over. “Sir, our orders…”

 

“Are you questioning my decision, Private?” Sidao’s voice betrayed irritation boiling over to anger.

 

“No, sir…” Bumi looked around for anything, anyone to help him with his argument. “But surely just a look…”

 

“Private Bumi, go fetch your relief immediately.” Sidao snapped. “You may finish your watch early, then report to me as soon as mine is over. There, I will formally charge you with insubordination and a court-martial will be formally convened to decide upon a suitable…”

 

“What is going on here?”

 

The three of them stopped, all eyes turned downward. Upon the deck stood Commander Kim, his neat hair fallen about his face and his uniform jacket slung over his arm. The older officer glared at all three of them as if they were equally guilty of some capital offence.

 

Sidao hesitated. “Nothing, sir. I was just…”

 

“Sail, sir!” Bumi pointed. “Just there.”

 

Kim looked at it with a frown. “Why have we not set an intercept course?”

 

“I recognise the ship, sir, it’s just that…”

 

“I don’t give a damn if you recognise the ship, Lieutenant.” Kim snapped back. “Our orders are to search all vessels, regardless of port of origin. Is that clear?”

 

“Yes, sir!” Sidao snapped to attention, then disappeared back in the bridge. Commander Kim made to follow, ascending up the stairs but pausing when he got to the two lookouts. “Excellent attention to detail, Private Bumi. But use discretion, always discretion, when dealing with prickly men. You may not always have a saviour in waiting.”

 

The _Waverider_ shifted course and picked up speed. The boatswain’s whistle sounded a high pitched call, the frigate springing to life as the crew moved to action stations. Bumi and Hanzo leapt from their posts and scrambled down to the armoury, throwing on armour and retrieving swords and daggers before meeting up with the rest of their section. A waterbender named Achak and Edano provided the bending power for the section, whilst Corporal Imwe was in command. In the close quarters of a ship boarding action, a section of eight was a hindrance. Once the fighting kicked off, each section would form into four man teams with one bender per team. Imwe, Achak, Hanzo and Bumi in the first, Edano and the rest in the second.

 

“Alright, bring it in.” Lieutenant Yune gathered his section commanders around the central table. Lieutenant Sidao, also in full kit, stood next to him. “I know we’re all bored and itching for action, but the odds are that we won’t get anything meaningful on our first boarding. Conduct a thorough search for contraband and keep your eyes peeled for anyone on the wanted list, but no busting heads, no mistreatment if they act stubborn. Above all, learn to tell the difference between contraband and stolen goods. These traders always have some commodities to hide, that’s for the taxman to punish, not us.”

 

“Sir?” Imwe raised his hand. “What’s the fallback option if it turns hostile?”

 

“If it turns out they’re harbouring pirates or trading in stolen goods? Then we react quickly. Detain the captain and the ship’s officers and the rest of the crew should fall in line. Prize crew arrangements will be sorted after that. Any further questions?”

 

A quiet shake of heads followed.

 

“Then I suggest we prep at stations. Mr. Pham will go across first at the stern, Mr. Imwe at the bow. Mr. Yuji will wait in reserve. Good fortune, gentlemen.”

 

The _Waverider’s_ main armament was a four inch gun mounted on a turret at the bow. As Bumi reached the deck, he heard its roar and instinctively looked for the splash. The gunnery crew had done its work well, the shell screaming past the bow of the _Stalwart Pine_ and landing less than a shiplength in front of her. Almost immediately the junk began to shed wind from its sails, heaving to hurriedly. The frigate drew closer to the trader, the distant shapes on her deck resolving into people, her crew shouting and pointing as the _Waverider_ took up a position a few yards off her port.

 

“Marines, make ready!” The roar came down from the bridge. Bumi and Hanzo gripped the boarding bridge, the wide plank across which the Marines would soon cross. If there were bows waiting for them, if there were benders or pikes, then the lead man and the two behind him would be dead for sure. There was only one way to find out and one path that would take them to discovery.

 

_“Boarders away!”_

 

“Boarders away!” The cry went up as the plank was flung from one deck to the next. It had barely touched down before Achak was scrambling over. Bumi and Hanzo followed close behind, landing on the deck of the junk with hands poised on their cutlasses. If any of the trader’s crew felt like disputing their presence, they were clearly wise enough to hold their tongues.

 

Thirty seconds after the Marines commenced the boarding action the wheelhouse and the foredeck were both secured. The captain was carefully but firmly escorted to Lieutenant Yune. The Marine officer offered a hand in greeting, one the captain carefully shook.

 

Yune spoke first. “I apologise for the inconvenience, sir. I am Lieutenant Yune of the United Republic Navy Ship _Waverider_. We are on an anti-piracy cruise and are boarding your vessel on the authority of the Three Nation-Trade Agreement, particularly the sub-sections relating to high-seas piracy and the trade of illegal goods.”

 

The captain, a thin man with a somewhat bewildered air, scratched his head. “You’ve no cause to be ‘ere then, sahr. The _Pine_ is an honest vessel as deals in honest trade. Naught in the ‘old but salted fish from the Southern Water Tribe to trade for lumber and iron.”

 

“Be that as it may.” Yune frowned. “I wish to conduct a complete search of your hold and crew quarters. A formality, you understand.”

 

The captain shrugged. “Makes no difference to me, m’boy. Fish will keep and the winds are fair. Ye’ll cost us naught but an hour or so.”

 

“Excellent.” Clearly pleased to have avoided difficulty, Yune beckoned to Pham. “Corporal, take your section into the hold and conduct the inspection. One crate in every three. Captain, the manifest and bill of lading, if you please.”

 

The rest of the Marines drew back to the gangplanks as Pham’s section disappeared below the decks. The ship’s crew lounged around, seemingly bored by all the fuss. Yune became quickly caught up in conversation with the Captain, amiably chatting with the man as the first mate brought the manifest for his examination. Bumi began to relax. He reprimanded himself quietly for getting so worked up over a simple search action.

 

“This doesn’t feel right.”

 

The words made him pause. Who said them made him look. Edano, his face screwed up in a frown, was staring at the crew with puzzled eyes. “This doesn’t feel right.”

 

“What doesn’t feel right?” Bumi asked.

 

“This. I mean…I don’t know what I mean…” Edano’s hand twitched close to the stone disc pouch he carried low on his right thigh. “Do you see their faces? They’re calm.”

 

Bumi took a brief glance. “Yeah, isn’t that a good thing?”

 

“But why?” Edano was searching for the words. “Look. Didn’t we just board this thing with twenty armed Marines? There’s a heavily armed warship right next to them. We’re searching their cargo. Even if it was just a few unlisted bottles of wine or illegal narcotics…I mean everyone gets nervous when the law’s around, even people who haven’t done anything wrong. They should be twitchy, on their toes, just waiting for someone to find something they shouldn’t have. But they’re calm. Calmer than we are. It’s not right.”

 

As Edano spoke, Bumi’s eyes had gone back to the crew. He began to see what Edano had already picked up on. The crew weren’t nervous, weren’t fidgeting, not even talking to each other. Just quietly leaning against railings or glancing at the rigging. It almost reminded him of the wannabe Triad initiates that used to wait around near the markets when the Air Acolytes made their shopping trips. Local toughs just waiting for a small monk to wander past. The Acolytes had gotten pretty good at spotting them, so the initiates just got better at hiding. Lounging around looking bored and distracted, not even eyeing their prey until…

 

…until it was time to strike.

 

Bumi’s eyes widened as he saw it clearly. The crew’s positioning wasn’t random at all. Half of them were clustered near the stern gangplank, half near the bow. He snapped his head toward Lieutenant Yune. “Sir!”

 

He was already too late. Yune heard the warning in his voice and snapped a hand to the straight bladed _jian_ at his hip. The captain was faster. A dagger appeared in his hand, a near-invisible flash of steel so keen it might as well have been a razor. Yune clutched at his throat, eyes widening with panic as blood began to seep between his fingers.

 

“Divers in the water!” Someone on the _Waverider_ shouted. “At the stern!”

 

The hatch to the junk’s cargo hold burst open. Covered in open lacerations and burn marks, Corporal Pham staggered out, his left hand still wreathed with fire whilst his right supported Yoshi, the man bleeding heavily from a wound in his legs. “Ambush!”

 

The roar triggered the crew on deck into action. Canvas sheets were thrown aside and chests flung open. Iron and steel poured from hidden caches, a torrent so plentiful it seemed to Bumi that he was surrounded by a wall of blades.

 

From everywhere came weapons. Dao sabers, axes and short spears, bows and arrows aimed directly at the crew back on the _Waverider_. Only the high pitched whistle of Edano’s stone discs saved Bumi from having his head taken off on the first swing from a burly man that he had at first thought to be the cook. The huge man staggered back, shaking off his surprise to aim another fearsome slash at Bumi’s throat. Cutlass now in hand, Bumi easily deflected the wild blow, then lunged forward in a counter that sent the man stumbling off balance. Hearing a cry, Bumi turned to find Edano set upon by three men armed with axes.

 

His first cut was wild, inflicting only superficial damage on the first man. Edano seized the opening, hurling two discs into the chest of his closest attacker. The third man would have had his head in retaliation if Hanzo had not appeared from the left and skewered the man through the ribs. Bumi smashed his hilt into the face of his opponent, dropping him to the deck clutching at his nose.

 

A shouted warning from Hanzo made him leap to the right, barely dodging the now recovered cook’s surprise attack. He locked swords with the man for a second, the cook’s heavier weight driving him back easily. Edano came to his rescue again, smashing a rock into the man’s right knee. There was a crack of bone and the cook fell with a scream.

 

The reprieve was long enough for Bumi to look around and take stock of the sudden crisis. Nearly all of Pham’s section had fought its way back to the deck, Hahn and Lin amongst them. Yoshi had fallen to the ground as Pham fought three pirates at once, his firebending hampered by the need to avoid setting the wooden vessel alight. But more pirates were pouring out of the hold, far more than would have been necessary to crew a vessel of this size.

 

 _They baited us_. _And we walked straight in._

He had no further time to consider their poor fortune. Another pirate set upon him, an axe in each hand. Bumi used the parry Staff Sergeant Machiko had made him practice a hundred different times, his blade angling downwards. The axeman was forced to halt his attack or risk impaling his leg on Bumi’s cutlass. Hanzo lunged past Bumi, scoring a deep cut on the man’s extended arm. Edano finished him off with a hit to the face. Recovering his balance, Bumi set himself for the next attack, Hanzo to his left and Edano to his right.

 

Ten men stood in front of them, well muscled and heavily armed. Bumi’s grip tightened on instinct. Behind their assailants he could see Hahn and Lin fighting back to back, whilst Imwe kept the captain away from Achak as he tried to help a bleeding Lieutenant Yune. The Marines were surrounded on all sides and hard pressed just to maintain their positions. Bumi heard a muffled explosion and saw a fountain of water jet up from the _Waverider’s_ stern, then had his attention wrenched back to the fight in front of him as the pirates came on.

 

Three of them attacked him at once. Bumi gave ground, trying to force them to come at him one at a time. They didn’t take the bait. He parried their first thrusts, grimly aware that once they had him occupied he’d likely get a sword in the back. He chose the biggest one, setting his footwork for a dive that would allow him to at least fell one opponent before the rest cut him to pieces. It was all he could do.

 

An enraged roar accompanied a wave of arrows, discs and icicles. Pirates dropped to the deck, dead and wounded as the reinforcements came over. Corporal Yuji led his section to Bumi’s rescue, whilst Lieutenant Sidao appeared at the stern with his platoon following close behind. Shin appeared at Bumi’s side, his short spear finding its resting place in a pirate’s chest.

 

The tables turned in an instant, the pirates now falling back as the fresh troops hammered at them with fire, rock and sword. Whatever his personal failings, Bumi realised, Sidao was clearly a fighter with few peers. The burly officer smashed his way past half a dozen opponents until he reached the pirate captain, the man still desperately hacking at Imwe’s defence.

 

“Surrender!” Sidao bellowed. He smashed a disc into the captain’s wrist, disarming the man easily before he laid his blade across his throat. “Surrender or I’ll send every last one of you to the depths!”

 

The captain clutched at his broken wrist, backing up under Sidao’s ruthless gaze. “Quarter!” He screeched. “Quarter, I beg of you!”

 

The fight went out of the crew in an instant. Blades and bows dropped to the deck. Sidao held up his fist. “Marines! Hold! Stay your swords!”

 

The word came too late for a smattering of pirates, Lin wrenching her sword free of a screaming archer as the last of their enemies held up their hands. For a moment there was indecision, blades held high and ready to strike, bending katas that would have drowned, burned and broken held at half-ready.

 

“Secure the prisoners!” Sidao’s voice snapped them out of it. “Waterbenders, treat the wounded. Ours first.”

 

The Marines snapped to the task obediently, herding the pirates towards the bow and disarming them of any remaining weaponry. The waterbenders and medics rushed to the injured, triaging and providing what treatment they could. Lieutenant Yune was quickly stretchered back aboard the _Waverider_ , his throat patched together but desperately needing surgery. Imwe, his left arm bleeding heavily, was likewise removed, as was Yoshi. They were the only seriously wounded, yet Bumi could hardly see a single one of the original boarding party not nursing a series of cuts and bruises. Lin and Hahn, in particular, with Lin leaning heavily on Hahn as she gingerly checked her leg.

 

“Bumi!” Shin put a hand on his shoulder. He was shaking like a leaf, though his eyes were clear. “I got two. Did you see it? I thought I was going to freeze, try and run away…but I didn’t! I’m not a coward after all!”

 

“That’s…that’s great, Shin.” Bumi realised that Shin wasn’t the one shaking. It was his own flesh that couldn’t stay still.

 

“How many did you get?”

 

“I…I don’t know.” Bumi tried to think, his eyes falling to his bloodied knuckles. He’d fought at least four, but actually killed… “None. I knocked a few out…wounded a couple, but I didn’t…I didn’t kill any of them.”

 

Shin paused, then nodded in agreement. “Prisoners for questioning, smart thinking. Hey, I’m going to check on Lin! Hey Lin! I got two!”

 

Bumi’s eyes dropped from his hands to the deck. At least half a dozen pirates lay dead or dying on the foredeck alone, with nearly a dozen more on the rest of the ship. Blood was tracing the path of least resistance to gaps in the decking where it would drip down on the hold below. Bright red blood, oozing out of wounds both narrow and wide, from neat cuts to the traumatic injuries inflicted by Edano’s stone discs, wounds that exposed brain and bone in a kaleidoscope of viscuous…

 

Taking two steps to the side of the ship, Bumi leaned over and vomited his breakfast down the side of the junk into the sea below. A hand rested on his shoulder, he looked up to find Hanzo waiting with a knowing look.

 

“First dead men you’ve seen?” He handed Bumi a ragged piece of cloth. The wool that softly passed over his cheeks and mouth felt like razors on his nerves.

 

“I saw them dredge up a body from Yue Bay.” Bumi closed his eyes, trying to steady his uneven breathing. “I thought that it didn’t look so bad, dying like that. He looked peaceful. Like he’d just gone to sleep.”

 

“They had a different sleep planned for us.” Hanzo gave the dead a final glance. “Don’t lose any sleep over it.”

 

- **TLoB-**

 

In a few minutes the prisoners had been rounded up on the central deck. Lieutenant Commander Jingim came over from the _Waverider_ , the XO’s eyes raked over the captain and the rest of the senior officers with tightly controlled fury.

 

Sidao approached him. “Sir? What was the detonation?”

 

“Divers with limpet mines.” Jingim clenched a fist. “We barely got waterbenders down there in time to stop them from breaking her in half. They still got one of the screws.”

 

Sidao actually looked relieved. “If that’s the case then we can still get back to Whaletail with the prize.”

 

Jingim grimaced. “But can we? Something about this doesn’t feel right.”

 

“Isn’t that to be expected?” Pham joined them. “It was a trap, after all.”

 

“Yes but…” Jingim glanced around. Bumi leaned a little closer to catch the next words. “…but it wasn’t a perfect trap. I’ve seen pirate ambushes before. It shouldn’t have been this easy. It just shouldn’t.”

 

Sidao looked confused. “Then what?”

 

“I don’t know, but someone does.” Jingim beckoned Bumi closer. “I know you’re already listening, Private. Get Hanzo and grab that captain.”

 

Bumi snapped to it. The captain was no longer a mild mannered merchant. The old man had strength in his wiry limbs and a menace in his eyes so vicious that Bumi cursed himself as an idiot for not seeing it sooner. Even a broken wrist did nothing to diminish the malice he burnt into Jingim. The lithe officer knelt down to look the captain in the eyes. “Quite a pretty little ambush you pulled here, Captain…?”

 

A glob of spittle smacked the XO in the cheek. Calmly wiping it away, Jingim gave a nod to Hanzo. Hanzo reached down to shift the captain’s broken wrist. Even the small movement caused the man to flinch.

 

Jingim retrieved an offcut of rope from the deck and began to loop it. “As you know, Captain Silence, under agreed international law the crime of piracy merits the sentence of death. Commander Kim and I are both empowered to summarily try, sentence and execute the sentence of any man caught in the act of piracy. And you, Captain, have most definitely been caught.”

 

“Now, you can keep staring at me with that sullen look in your eye, but if your breath doesn’t carry the information I seek, I swear by every spirit beyond the Veil that I will hang you from your own masthead. Then I will ask your lieutenants the same question. If I receive the same answer then they will share in your fate. I will work my way down, one by one, until finally I come across a man who has more sense than defiance. Your death, and the deaths of those who follow, will have been for nothing. Do you understand?”

 

The captain said nothing but his glare turned nervous as he caught the murmurings of the rest of the captives. Bumi could almost see the wheels turning inside the man’s skull as he looked behind him. He was calculating the loyalty of his men, wondering if they would all die without a word spoken. The captain turned back to find Jingim idly examining the completed noose in his hands. “Ask your questions. I will answer.”

 

Jingim nodded with the same satisfaction that a man might have at a particularly nice cup of tea. “Very good. Now, where is the crew of the _Stalwart Pine_?”

 

The captain hesitated before he answered. “Dead. All of them. My lord Shan Yu, dread Demon of the Seas, wished none to be able to raise alarm.”

 

“The _Pine_ had a crew of twenty.” Sidao raged. “Some of them were my friends. You bastards!”

 

The captain smiled thinly. “Their deaths were quick, I assure you of that. The Demon does not believe in pointless suffering.”

 

Jingim held Sidao back before he could interrupt. “The _Pine_ already left port before we arrived. None knew of our mission or intended course. How did you come to be here? And why did you think you’d be able to overwhelm an entire frigate with just forty men?”

 

“We employ fishermen as spotters. When Lord Yu heard you were bound for Whaletail Island and that part of the garrison was mobilising for a voyage…well, he could guess the rest. As for where you would be...”

 

“You didn’t.” Jingim snapped his fingers. “If you had then Yu’s entire fleet would be waiting for us, wouldn’t it? You’re a picket line, aren’t you? You weren’t meant to overwhelm us, just find us and fix us in place until…” He cursed, then whipped back up to Sidao. “Dump their weapons in the water and cut the rigging lines. Disable the rudder and bring the captain with us. All hands! Prepare to cast off!”

 

Jingim was back aboard the _Waverider_ even faster than he had come across. As Bumi joined Hanzo in hurling the fallen weapons into the waves he risked a glance up. Jingim and Commander Kim were arguing furiously, the XO gesturing repeatedly at the other isles of the Foundations and then pointing East.

 

It took less than fifteen minutes to finish disabling the _Pine_. Bumi was the last to leave the ship, the pirates eyeing him balefully as he withdrew the plank and left them to their fate, unbound, but with no sails and no rudder. It would take them hours to retrieve spare canvas and effect repairs to their rudder, days even.

 

A midshipman raced by with news and orders. “Commander Kim wants all section heads to the bridge for briefing! We’re to make top speed for the mainland. Gun crews to remain at stand to!”

 

“What do you make of all this?” Hanzo murmured as the frigate began to pull away from the junk. “That’s prisoners and prize money we’re leaving behind.”

 

“I don’t know.” Bumi glanced at the bridge again. Commander Kim was staring ahead, his jaw locked and his eyes grim. Jingim and Sidao stood beside him, the Marine lieutenant pale and his face drawn in a worried frown. “But if something’s rattled all three of them, I’d take a guess there was a good reason not to dally.”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

“An ambush.”

 

Imwe clenched his unharmed fist so hard Bumi thought he might draw blood.

 

“An ambush.” He repeated. “So bloody simple that a first year cadet should have spotted it. Yu didn’t know what our patrol route was. He just spread his ships out so that if we hit one of them the rest could swarm to overwhelm us.”

 

“But how?” Perched on the stern rail, Lin’s brow twisted in confusion. “How could they have sent a message so quickly?”

 

Hahn grunted. “They borrowed a trick off the Northern Water Tribe. During the Hundred Years War we used to string together lookouts on pre-positioned icebergs. Our navy couldn’t be everywhere at once, but it could stay in a central position. If a Fire Nation raiding fleet appeared the lookouts would light a signal fire that would let our captains know their direction. Any raiders would sail right into an ambush, no matter how stealthy or unexpected their route. Not one admiral ever figured out how we always knew they were coming.”

 

“Either someone told Yu, or he figured it out himself.” Imwe agreed. “Lookouts spotted the smoke coming from the peaks of the Foundations as we were engaging the _Pine_. Jingim put it all together when he was questioning the captain.”

 

“So now what?” Bumi asked. “If Yu knows where we are and his entire fleet is going to attack us, why not let him? Meet him in open battle and destroy him.”

 

“Oh, you think it’s that easy?” A hint of sarcasm tainted Imwe’s usual good humour. “Well go right ahead, Private. Don’t let me stand in your way.”

 

“He doesn’t know any better.” Hahn frowned. “You never had any bad ideas when you were his age?”

 

Bumi blinked. It was the first time he could remember Hahn coming to his defence over his youth and inexperience. Imwe appeared regretful. “I apologise, Bumi. That was uncalled for. The reason we can’t stand and fight is mainly speed. Yes, however many ships Yu has got, we likely have more firepower and longer range. But it’s speed that decides an engagement like this. Speed and agility. That’s why they took out our port screw and tried to mangle our rudder. It’s a wound straight to the old girl’s hamstring. She’ll run slower, she’ll turn slower. And if Yu could spare more than a score of fighters for what was damn near a suicide run then I’m thinking he’s got more than enough crews to take us.”

 

“What’s the commander planning?” Hanzo asked.

 

“A thunder run to the nearest harbour. Blackrock Port has a fort with a strong Earth Kingdom garrison. If we can make it under the cover of their guns then Yu will have no choice but to give up the chase.” Imwe pointed to the stern. “So, here’s the word from higher. Lieutenant Sidao is taking full command of the Marine contingent. We’re going to mount a full watch around the ship. If you see the slightest sign of sail or smoke on the horizon or behind one of the islets then you howl like a damned maniac, someone will come running. Any questions?”

 

Edano raised his hand. “How are Yoshi and the boss?”

 

“Lieutenant Bao says Yoshi will be back in fighting shape by tomorrow. Lieutenant Yune will require more healing, probably from a master waterbender, but he’ll be alright in the long term.”

 

Hanzo was next. “How long before we reach the port?”

 

“No earlier than dawn at our current speed.” Imwe frowned at the collective wince. “It’s not that bad. Once the sun goes down they’ll have little chance of spotting us.”

 

“Great.” Hahn checked an imaginary pocket watch. “Well then. Only a trifling nine hours till dark. Sure doesn’t leave them much time to catch us.”

 

As strange as it was, the words actually brought on a wave of laughter from the assembled Marines. Even quiet Koga cracked a broad grin. Bumi shook his head. “Does that excuse me asking the question about what our chances are?”

 

This time the laughter was loud enough to have a runner sent from the bridge to ask if enemy ships had been spotted.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

Bumi had been rostered for a two hour watch before lunch. He’d looked forward to coming off duty, helping himself to some dumplings and then catching a nap before evening drill. Now he was on his fourth hour of his new watch and the only food he’d consumed was a bowl of cold rice that a mess hand had tossed at him on the way past. Despite that discomfort, Bumi was as alert as he’d ever been.

 

The knowledge that an enemy lay out there just beyond his vision was enough to keep him wide awake and constantly scanning his assigned arcs. He had done much the same in boot camp during field ops, only then the enemy he feared was a stealthy drill instructor sneaking up behind him if he slept. Now, if he failed in his watch, the _Waverider_ could lose precious minutes of tactical awareness.

 

“I didn’t think it would take them this long.” Edano had joined him and Hanzo for the watch, the earthbender raising his field glasses to peer at another of the smaller isles the _Waverider_ had passed. “Do you think they decided to pursue us at all? Maybe they decided that scaring us off was as good as beating us?”

 

“I wouldn’t count on it.” Hanzo gave his usual wry grunt. “This pirate lord’s got a taste of our blood now. He’ll follow us like the shark he is. Won’t matter how many men he loses in the attempt, we’re worth more than that.”

 

“How do you figure that?” Bumi queried.

 

“I was on guard duty for one of the briefings. They reckon that most of the ships Shan Yu takes strike their colours as soon as he gets in range. In the early days most of the merchants hired mercenaries and benders to defend their ships and they cost Shan Yu a bloody price every time he took a vessel. Except when Shan Yu took those ships he’d put them to the torch in reprisal. Over two years the ships slowly stopped fighting back and that’s when Shan Yu’s profits, recruitment and fleet really began to grow. Pretty soon he’ll have the ships and men to start raiding the Southern Water Tribe and the Earth Kingdom ports on the south coast. It’s why we’re out here in the first place.”

 

A coldness rose in Bumi’s gut as he put the pieces together. “If he can butcher the crew of a Republic frigate then every lowlife on sea or coast will rally to his banner.”

 

“I can admire the man’s ambition.” Hanzo stretched and yawned. “Even if I think he’s an idiot. He could have raided merchants for the rest of his career and retired a rich man. But instead, whether it’s us or those who come after, he’s signed his own death warrant.”

 

Bumi laughed as something occurred to him. “I used to read about pirates as a kid. My sister and I loved them, played at them as well. It seemed every pirate lord was a tragic figure fighting for a noble cause. Then I meet them and they immediately try and murder us.”

 

“I can see where the confusion comes from.” Hanzo grinned. “They don’t write the pirate stories from the perspective of the sailors they butcher.”

 

It was a poor joke, but the three of them laughed anyway. It felt good to laugh. To relieve the gnawing certainty that in a few hours they would be fighting for their lives. That they might not live to see the sunset, let alone the sunrise in the morning. Things that were known yet went unspoken as they returned to their careful scanning of the thin line where the sky greeted the sea.

 

“I wonder what the Sarge would say if she could see us now?” Edano broke the silence. “Or Corporal Pimniq. We were in the middle of the fight today, right in the thick of it. And we fought just like they taught us. One of them tried that dodging trick Sergeant Machiko used on me and I knocked him overboard.”

 

Hanzo smirked. “I remember that. Funniest day of boot camp, really.”

 

Bumi agreed. “It was an epic beatdown.”

 

Edano gave a rueful grin. “Yeah, yeah it was.”

 

A new voice interjected. “At least some good things came from that day. We all learned something from it.”

 

Hahn joined them at the stern, the older sailor bearing a well-received flask of hot tea. “Edano, Hanzo, you can stand down for an hour and get some rest. Send Lin and Koga up to relieve Bumi if you see them.”

 

Both men gave a grateful nod before heading off. Hahn offered Bumi the rest of the flask, Bumi greedily gulping it down to ease the chill of the cool afternoon wind. “How’s the mood below?”

 

“Nervous, twitchy, trying to fake their smiles extra wide.” Hahn sighed. “I’ve seen it before. Maybe too many times.”

 

“During the war?”

 

Hahn looked a little surprised. Normally Bumi and the rest of the old crew avoided asking him anything about the Hundred Year War, mostly to avoid the extensive lecture on tactics, training and opposing forces of each engagement that usually followed. Hahn had clued in on it after a while, even turning it into something of an inside joke. “You actually want to know?”

 

“You survived that war, didn’t you?” Bumi gave a half hearted shrug. “Must have been doing something right.”

 

Hahn considered his answer. “Perhaps. Truth be told I barely survived that war. Almost died more than a few times. Each time was generally because I did some damn stupid thing. You wouldn’t have liked me back then.”

 

“Not exactly on your fan club right now.”

 

Hahn laughed. “No, but that’s because I’m old and salty. Back then I was just thick as a new iceberg. No surprises it took nearly dying to get me straightened out.”

 

They sat in silence again, broken only by the call of gulls circling the stern. Their eyes searching, looking as wide and as deep as they could to spot any hint of approaching danger. It was too much to bear. “What was it like?”

 

Hahn glanced at him. “Almost dying?”

 

Bumi was silent, half regretting the question. Hahn paused. “It’s…well…it’s not as bad as you might think. The first time was during a raid on a Fire Nation outpost. I mistimed a thrust, nearly had my head taken off. I barely noticed it till afterwards. Chief Arnook gave me a cuff behind the ear and told me to be more careful next time. If only I’d listened…”

 

He took a deep breath, shuddering as if recalling a foul taste on his tongue. “I was assigned to a special mission during the Great Siege of the North. The assassination of Admiral Bao…or was it Shao? I forget. To end the invasion in one swift strike.”

 

Bumi started. “Wait…wait…you’re _that_ Hahn?”

 

A grin split the older man’s face. “I take it your parents mentioned me?”

 

“Well…a little.” Bumi hesitated. “They said they never heard from you again after you left for your mission. Everyone assumed you were dead.”

 

“I deserved to be.” The bitterness returned to Hahn’s voice, the moment of good humour forgotten. “I was so sure of myself. So confident that I could strike down the admiral as if he was some common grunt. He barely needed to sidestep my attack and trip me over the edge of his bridge. I hit the water so hard it knocked me out. The water was so cold it woke me right back up again. Right back up to the armour dragging me down to my grave. The last thing I remembered before waking up in a Fire Nation prison camp was the water rushing into my lungs.”

 

Bumi swallowed. “What happened?”

 

“General Iroh sent a diver in after me. Claimed to be curious about the infiltration of the flagship. More than likely he just took pity on an idiotic boy who swam into his own tomb. In a way I wished he hadn’t. When the other prisoners told me what my arrogance had cost, what my moment of glory had caused…” Hahn clenched his fists. “The admiral survived because of my incompetence. He slew the Moon Spirit, nearly destroyed the balance of nature. If Princess Yue…if she hadn’t….I nearly doomed us all. That is why I never went home. I could not face my chief or my people.”

 

“That’s why I am prone to lectures, to dispensing perhaps unneeded advice. Not because I wish to hear myself speak, but to perhaps spare you some of the pain that comes from the follies of youth.”

 

Bumi could find no words to greet the revelation. Uncle Sokka had not spoken kindly of the man he only dimly remembered, yet surely even he could have found some pity for the tortured soul that his rival had become. “Then…what advice would you have for today?”

 

Hahn looked at him with a mixture of pity and worry. “I know you didn’t fight to kill today. Even when you had the chance, even when it would have been easier, you fought to wound and disable.”

 

There was no way to disagree. Hahn shook his head. “Hesitation, whether from morality or from foolishness, is death for a soldier. You know this?”

 

Bumi nodded. “I know it. I do. But I still couldn’t do it. Like it was my father’s teachings wielding the blade, not me.”

 

The old sailor sighed. “I have come to admire the Air Nomad philosophy, what little I know of it. Yet there is a reason they had no standing army, no professional soldiers even when it would have been wise to train them. A man or woman who lives their life devoted to the ideal of non-violence, even when trained to fight, can rarely carry the day against someone with no such restraints. Oh, true, your father never killed and won most of his battles anyway, but your mother killed when she had no other choice. Your uncle Sokka, Commander Suki and Toph Bei Fong killed most of the crew of the Royal Air Fleet between the three of them. Your grandfather, Chief Hakoda, killed and commanded hundreds of others who killed on his orders.”

 

“But that was…it was different, wasn’t it? They could have killed Lord Zuko half a dozen times, but it was better that they didn’t in the end.” It was only half a question, for he already knew the answer.

 

Hahn took a pipe from his jacket and began to pack it as he continued his watch. “It’s difficult for me to answer. The stories go that between them your father and Lord Zuko had half a dozen opportunities to kill Admiral Bao…

 

“Zhao.”

 

“Whatever. If they’d killed him then, hundreds of Northerners wouldn’t have died in the siege. Princess Yue would be alive and ruling the North as we speak, most likely with Sokka by her side. The Nomads believed beyond any doubt in the sanctity of life, yet even they killed to protect the innocents in their care once the Fire Nation came.”

 

Bumi hated how much sense his words made, how easy it was to consider abandoning Dad’s lessons in the face of stark logic. And yet… “I don’t think I can do it, Hahn. I don’t have the right to decide to end someone’s life. I just don’t.”

 

Hahn nodded with understanding. “And the pirates do? They had no trouble trying to kill all of us this morning. They had no qualms with slaughtering the crew of the _Stalwart Pine_. And should they prevail today then they will kill again upon the morrow. Is allowing them to do so the acceptable path?”

 

“Dad would have found a way.”

 

“Maybe it’s not my right to say, but what the Avatar would have done and what his son _must_ do are separate things entirely.” Hahn narrowed his eyes suddenly. “When you kill today Bumi, and you will either kill or die yourself, do not strike thinking you are taking a life. Strike knowing you are saving them.”

 

“When?” Bumi grasped at a last string. “Maybe we’ll evade them. Make it to dark without them spotting us.”

 

“No, I don’t think we will.” Hahn cupped his hands around his mouth and took a deep breath. “ _Sail ho! Two points off stern! At least three ships and counting!”_

 

Bumi’s last hope began to fade. The pirate Lord Shan Yu had found them. The Demon of the Seas was coming for the _Waverider._

 

**-TLoB-**

 

“Seven ships.” Sidao lowered his field glass. “Two tramp steamers, three junks, a Water Tribe sloop and that’s an older class Fire Nation corvette in the lead or I’ll eat my left boot.”

 

“Your boot’s safe.” Jingim agreed, the XO terse as he lowered his own monocular. “That’s a _Mako_ -class corvette, refitted with a three inch turret. Where the hell did he get that from?”

 

The ship’s senior crew had come to the stern to witness the pursuit for themselves. Bumi and Hahn stood to the side, silent as the command team debated the issue amongst themselves.

 

“A lot of the obsolete fleet got sold for scrap after the war.” Commander Kim observed. “But I know more than one of them wound up repurposed for coast guard duty by Earth Kingdom governors without the gold for a proper patrol fleet.”

 

“That balances our advantage in firepower.” In Lieutenant Yune’s absence, Imwe had taken up a temporary position with the ship’s senior officers. “If we fight a gun duel with him then we risk boarding from the rest of those ships. They say Shan Yu has three hundred men in his fleet, each one a hardened killer.”

 

“But it wouldn’t be.”

 

Bumi immediately regretted saying anything. The eyes of the officers turned on him instantly, Sidao’s irritated, Jingim’s surprised, Commander Kim merely looking bemused. Imwe spoke first. “What did you say, Private?”

 

“What I meant is…” Bumi hesitated. Hahn nudged him. “Not with the ones we killed this morning. And he would have had to leave a crew aboard the decoy ship to get her seaworthy again.”

 

“He’s right.” Sidao astonished him by speaking first. “And think of the men he would have had to put ashore to run his signal chain. There are dozens of isles in the Foundations, who knows how many men that leaves him short.”

 

“And they can’t board us all at once.” Kim smacked a hand on the railing. “That’s it. Of course. Yu’s over-extended himself. To garner a fleet he had to divide his crews.”

 

“And they’re not necessarily all fighters, either.” Jingim was already ahead of them. “His rigging men for his sail ships, the boiler men for his steamers, his navigators. He won’t risk them if he can help it. We’ve got nearly fifty Marines aboard, and there’s more than a few fighters among our sailors.”

 

“Mr. Jingim, have us taken in as close to shore as possible. Gun crews to stations.” Kim grimaced. “At current speed they’ll be on us by evening. We’re in for a bloody night’s work, boys, and that’s a fact.”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

“I gotta say,” Hanzo finished his chewing and swallowed. “This is really great cake.”

 

Bumi did his best not to let his distaste show through as Hanzo wrapped his mouth around another chunk of confection. “You’re an animal, Hanzo.”

 

“Schticks and schtones.” Hanzo mumbled through his food. “Come on, do I judge you for your snoring?”

 

“I don’t snore.” Bumi snorted. “I already asked Shin. That’s just you trying to excuse your table manners.”

 

“Sorry I wasn’t raised in a palace.”

 

“It was more a monastery than a palace.”

 

“Whatever. Point being, I enjoy my food and I like to eat and converse in a timely manner.”

 

“You don’t do either of those things in a timely manner.” Bumi’s retort seemed to convince Hanzo to focus on his food for a while. With his immediate source of annoyance dealt with, Bumi’s eyes drifted down to his own plate.

 

The cooks had broken out the best rations on the ship at Commander Kim’s order. Fresh meat and fish, cooked almost exactly how each individual sailor wanted it. Bumi understood the intent. The good fare had raised the spirits of the crew and the simple act of eating had relaxed the tension that had enveloped the crew for hours.

 

It wasn’t exactly working on him. Every time he went to take a bite of his crispy dumplings, the taste yanked him out of his skin and left him wandering through a market in Republic City with his small hand in Dad’s and a freshly bought bag of dumplings in his other hand for the picnic with Mom and Kya and Baby Tenzin down at the park by the bay. Then he had to drag himself out of that memory before the warm feeling of Dad’s hand on his and the sly wink as Dad snagged a lychee from his bag and split it between them completely overwhelmed him.

 

They’d all come together for the meal. Shin and Lin, Hahn and Edano, Koga had even dragged Yoshi up from sickbay. They sat around the same table, Shin and Edano enthusiastically swapping stories of the days fighting. To look at the two youngsters one might think that there was no more danger to come, so invincible did they sound as Edano described the splash of a pirate falling overboard and Shin imitated the thrust that he’d used to save Bumi’s life.

 

“Hey, hey.” Hahn stood, a flask in his hand. “Before we all get too carried away with Edano’s heroics, there’s a little Water Tribe tradition I think is appropriate.”

 

He took a sip from the flask. “In the North, the eldest warrior in the tribe would initiate the youngest warriors into the lodge after their first battle. Normally there’d be drums, dancing, the singing of the legends and a feast. But with none of that on hand, I guess a little bit of rum will have to do.”

 

“My father once told me that a man is defined by the company he keeps. If so, then I have been truly fortunate to be defined by all of you. All my life I desired to be in the company of storied fighters, and yet for all my searching I believe I found something better.”

 

He handed the flask to Shin, who took a nip and passed it on. “I think I’ve found myself amongst warriors whose legends are yet to be written. If my name is ever spoken with any renown, let it be said that I fought with Shin and Edano, with Lin and Koga. Hanzo, Yoshi and Bumi, the son of Aang.”

 

Bumi received the flask and raised it. “Well, maybe he’s just flattering us all, maybe he’s on to something. Who knows? To Hahn of the North, who’s never stingy with his rum.”

 

“Hahn of the North!” The squad laughed as they toasted the old sailor. He grinned back before pocketing his flask.

 

They broke up after that, drifting away in twos and threes to other tables where card and dice games had broken out. Bumi stayed with Hanzo, Hanzo stayed with his cake. Bumi let his eyes stray over the room and for once the warmth in his heart quashed the fear in his belly.

 

Hanzo noticed him staring. “What is it?”

 

“Nothing, it’s just…” Bumi glanced at his plate. Faster than a striped tail lemur, he snatched the last of the cake of the tray and stuffed it into his mouth. “You were right.” He mumbled through a layer of icing. “This is really great cake.”

 

He narrowly dodged Hanzo’s retaliatory swipe. His friend was making to pursue him when a runner appeared in the doorway.

 

“All hands on deck!” He shouted. “They’re closing to firing range!”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

Bumi jumped back, the wild slash that nearly opened his chest bouncing off a railing instead. Off balance, the pirate mistimed his own dodge and howled as Bumi’s cutlass cut into his shoulder. Grabbing a knife with his off hand, the buccaneer swung at Bumi’s neck, only for Lin to grab the wrist and drive the knife into the man’s own eye.

 

“Thanks!” Bumi gasped.

 

“Don’t mention it.” Lin grimaced. “I think that was the last of them.”

 

They both ducked as another shell whistled overhead. Lin shrugged. “Well, the ones here anyway.”

 

Bumi ran back to the railing, his eyes scanning the water for any more would-be boarders. His task was made easier by the newest flare shooting up from the bridge. Since the last light faded almost an hour earlier the _Waverider_ had managed to dominate the running gun-battle by winning the illumination battle. Unable to approach from cover of darkness, the pirates had been forced to commit their three heaviest ships to a slugging match with the _Waverider’s_ main gun.

 

A match in which, all praise to the gunners, they had been outclassed and outfought. Both of the refitted tramp steamers had been holed multiple times before their magazines exploded. They’d drifted to a stop on the reefs bordering the makeshift duelling ground on which the _Waverider_ fenced her opponents.

 

The pirates had not lacked for courage. Twice now they had sent boarding teams by longboat, and then a third time by sailing one of the junks close enough for men to swing across. Each time the fighting had been bloody, the deck littered with the bodies of pirate and Marine alike. But Bumi knew he was still alive…and still not a killer.

 

He’d meant to. Three times now. His blade had been poised, his foe vulnerable, yet three times his blade had turned at the last second. The other Marines had shown no such mercy. Hanzo, Sidao, and now Lin had taken the lives he could not. Had they thought it just chance? Or did they see the same hesitation Hahn did?

 

“They’re trying to block us in.” He heard Sidao growl. “Shan Yu knows if we break out his crews won’t follow us. Not with the losses they’ve taken.”

 

Jingim leant heavily on the railing next to him, the second in command bleeding heavily from a cut above his eye. “We’ve taken our own losses. Sixteen dead, another ten wounded. They don’t need to strike a decisive blow if they just keep chipping away at us.”

 

 _“Commander Jingim to the bridge!”_ The shout echoed down to the stern. _“Commander Jingim to the bridge!”_

 

The man cursed. “I can barely see and he wants me back up there? Bumi! Lend me your arm, lad. I’ll not die from slipping on the stairs.”

 

With Bumi’s assistance they made good time through the crowds of Marines and the engineers working damage control. The _Waverider_ had good plate steel for hull armour, but even the best metal out of Yu Dao couldn’t withstand repeated barrages from accurate cannon fire. Yet still the frigate pressed onward, gallantly fighting with a single screw and now a hole in her hull. Her Commander, too, was fighting lame. A stray shot had sent a handful of shrapnel into Kim’s leg, yet he had refused anything more than a tourniquet and a seat to continue directing the action.

 

His face, pale and sweaty, lit up when he saw Jingim. “Thank the Ocean Spirit you’re alright. I heard someone say you’d fallen.”

 

“Not yet.” Jingim gripped his captain’s hand. “We’ve done the impossible, sir. Sink one more ship and his own crews will demand a withdrawal.”

 

“More than that.” Kim pointed to the south. “There’s a storm forming. Most of his ships are wood and canvas. If he doesn’t make for safe harbour then he’s doomed himself. We, on the other hand…”

 

“Get into the fringes. Ride it out.” Jingim grasped his idea immediately. “He’ll try to block us.”

 

“You’re the gunnery expert, my friend. Can you clear us away.”

 

“Aye, sir. That I can…”

 

Bumi’s world turned to thunder and chaos before his eyes. The side of the bridge exploded inwards, a sheet of metal cutting Jingim in half and shearing off Kim’s left arm. Bumi was thrown backwards, the left side of his face smashing into the column of the helm while a wave of heat washed over his right. When he opened his eyes again he found the entire bridge crew on the ground, some writhing and screaming, most lying still. Raising a hand to his face, Bumi found his skin hot and blistering, and blood seeped out of his right ear.

 

“Bumi.” Kim raised his remaining arm, pointing a shaking finger south. “Take us into the storm, boy. Into the storm, or we’re all dead.”

 

Somehow Bumi found the strength to stand. His trembling fingers wouldn’t wrap around the spokes of the wheel, so he placed his arms in between them and turned his body. The _Waverider_ bent to his command, the bow turning south and the power plant softly throbbing through the deck as it slowly but surely pushed the frigate toward where the lightning struck the sea.

 

_“They’re breaking their pursuit!”_

 

_“Not the sloop! Her captain must be a madman!”_

_“He’s coming alongside! Brace for ramming!”_

The shudder of hardwood on metal preceded the shock of impact. Already off balance, Bumi found himself flying to the left, toward where the railing now tipped dangerously over as a high wave rolled in from starboard.

 

He was flying. That wasn’t right. Only airbenders could fly, and he wasn’t an airbender. Dad had always been so disappointed that he wasn’t…

 

The impact on the deck drove what was left of his breath out of his lungs. Winded and battered, Bumi lay still. When his lungs finally worked he drew in breath that hurt his throat.

 

“Look here, men!” A cruel voice shouted. “The Republic dogs are throwing themselves onboard now!”

 

A shout of laughter went up, as high and as pitiless as the voice that commanded it. Bumi looked up and found himself surrounded by enemies. Swords and pikes were levelled at him as a sumptuously dressed man strode forward. His eyes were hard and his smile was proud, his own sword not yet in hand as he examined Bumi like a fisherman might his catch.

 

“Do you know who I am, boy?”

 

Bumi half choked on the words. “Shan Yu.” His hand felt for his sword, but his belt had been torn away. “A murderer.”

 

“Murderer, he calls me?” Shan Yu smirked. “It is impolite to come aboard a man’s vessel and call him names. I shall write as much to your mother when I send her your tongue. Kill him.”

 

The first man to advance was cut down by a thrown spear. Hahn landed on the deck beside him, a sword in each hand. “Bumi! Get up. Get up!”

 

“Hahn…” Bumi croaked. “I can’t...”

 

Hahn parried a thrust and lunged forward, a pirate falling clutching his throat. “Bumi, get up!”

 

“You’re a brave man to come alone!” Shan Yu called. “Tell me your name, so I might properly tell the story of this night!”

 

“You’ll tell nothing!” Hahn yelled back. “Not when I cut your head from your shoulders.”

 

The words delighted the pirate lord. He strode forward, a scimitar appearing in his hand. He gave it an experimental swing, a bitter piece of iron with an edge like a razor. “I pray you swing your sword as well as your tongue, else this will lack the proper glory.”

 

“Bumi!” Hahn hissed. “I can’t take him alone!”

 

Bumi’s legs refused his commands to rise. The world around him flickered and darkened, the jeering faces of the pirates as they began to form a ring into which their leader walked.

 

“Go!” He waved them onwards. “Take their ship! Deliver me their captain’s head. I will deal with this one.”

 

“Bumi!” Hahn’s roar was almost lost in the thunder. Rain began to fall upon the deck as the two ships drifted into the storm. “I need you!”

 

“I…I can’t…” Bumi retched, his head pounding and his heart beating out of control.

 

“Face me.” Shan Yu urged. “Beat me and you both shall go free, I swear it.”

 

Hahn cursed, standing upright to face his foe. “Come trouble me then.”

 

From where he lay, Bumi could only stare at the match. Shan Yu towered above the lanky sailor, his chest broad and his arms corded with muscle. With a roar the pirate lord came forward, a ferocious cut nearly bisecting Hahn from hip to shoulder. Hahn side stepped at the last second, his nimble feet dancing across the bucking deck as he aimed his own sword low. Shan Yu snarled as steel bit flesh, Bumi saw blood seeping across his thigh and for the first time wondered if Hahn could actually do it. There was grey at his temples and half a score of years between him and his opponent, yet first blood had irrefutably gone to the Tribesman. Hahn ducked back in, hacking and slashing as Shan Yu suddenly went on the defence. In his wiry hands, two swords seemed like six. Thirty years of skill showed in Hahn’s swordplay, and any normal foe should have fallen under the onslaught.

 

But Shan Yu was _fast._ No man so large should have moved so quick, his scimitar parrying Hahn’s attacks in graceful arcs as he recovered his footing. And when he struck, it was with perfect timing, in between the gaps of Hahn’s attack. Just as skilled on the defence, Hahn stepped backwards, ducking swings that would have sliced him limb from limb.

 

Shan Yu laughed, a joyful sound that rang discordantly against the screams and the clash of swords. “You’re a quick one, old timer. As good as any I’ve ever fought, and I’ve fought the best around.”

 

“Like who, the local coast guard and the boys they have crewing the merchant ships?” Hahn grunted as he fended off a lunge at his heart. He missed the backswing and cried out as steel bit into flesh. The sword fell from his left hand, blood dripping down his fingers from a deep cut on his forearm.

 

“Hahn!” Bumi pushed himself onto his hands and knees. He reached for the fallen sword. He just needed to get to his feet…

 

“Hahn!” Shan Yu was delighted. “I’ll ask you again, Hahn. You’ve given me good sport this night, better than I was expecting in this bloody storm. Lay down your blade. I’ll name you an officer within my fleet with your choice of plunder.”

 

Hahn leaned heavily on his sword. “Well, that’s a generous offer, Lord Shin Tu.”

 

Shan Yu’s smile faded. “It is ‘Shan Yu’.”

 

“I’m sorry, I have a terrible head for names.” Hahn grinned wearily. “Shon Ki, was it?”

 

“Insolent bastard!” The pirate lord swung at his head, but Hahn was a second too fast. He stepped and slashed, and for a moment Bumi thought he’d done it. A stream of blood ran from Hahn’s blade, and the pirate clutched at his side. Hahn paused, as if expecting to see the man drop to his knees.

 

With a great cry, Shan Yu spun on his heel. His scimitar came down in a great two handed blow that saw the edge enter at Hahn’s shoulder and finish in the middle of his chest. Hahn stared stupidly at the blade, then up at Shan Yu.

 

“Oh…” Understanding flickered in his eyes. “Feels different this time…”

 

The blade came free as he sank to his knees. Bumi felt his legs return to him. He seized the sword before him and leapt at Shan Yu. Hacking and slashing, mindlessly throwing everything he had at the pirate lord. Someone was screaming, an awful, mindless sound that chilled the blood. He realised dimly that his own throat was producing the noise. With his wounds and surprise against him, Shan Yu was driven back. He regained the ground with a backhand that sent Bumi sprawling and his sword flying.

 

“Enough sport for the evening.” Shan Yu sounded tired. “Someone kill the boy.”

 

“My lord!” A pirate screamed. “Look!”

 

Shan Yu looked. He saw. And roared with anger as the first of the Republic counter boarders leapt from the rail of the _Waverider_ and landed on the deck. Sidao cut down the first pirate to rush them, his flank covered by the cook wielding a boarding axe. Shin and Lin fought shoulder to shoulder with Edano, the earthbender throwing his stone discs at the pirates trying to rally from below decks. They were surging forward, trying to rally around…

 

…Shan Yu.

 

It was as simple as picking a fight with the biggest Triad in the pack. He raced toward Shan Yu and dived to his knees, the wet deck carrying him past beneath the swing of the man’s sword. His slash barely drew blood, yet it enraged the already furious pirate.

 

“Bastard!” Shan Yu cut at him again, but Bumi was already moving to the railing. “I’ll gut you like boar-rat.”

 

Bumi grabbed the ladder, his foot already perched on the first rung. “You’ll have to catch me first, oh mighty pirate lord.” And like a dozen Triads in a dozen bars in a dozen alleys, Shan Yu chased Bumi into ground of his choosing.

 

Scratched, bruised, cut and half concussed, Bumi had still been climbing trees and scaling cliffs since he’d been strong enough to do it without Dad’s help. Even rocking and shuddering under a storm, with rain pouring into his eyes and thunder deafening him, he knew exactly where he was going. His hands flew to new positions, his feet boosting him up and up past the yardarm and onward to the topsail. Behind him he could hear Shan Yu grunting and cursing, his wounds beginning to slow his pursuit. But he didn’t look back. To look back was to slow down, and to slow down was to die. Bumi wouldn’t die today. He wouldn’t. He refused. Kya and Tenzin were waiting for his stories. Mom was waiting to scold him for taking too many risks. Dad was waiting. He’d promised they’d talk more. He’d promised.

 

By the time he reached the topsail his legs were burning and his chest heaving. Bumi scrambled out onto the spar, his feet find little purchase on the slippery wood. Exactly how he’d planned. Shan Yu appeared a few seconds later, the man looking dazed and sick from the climb. On the deck, the rocking of the storm had been an annoyance. Up in the rigging it was like trying to maintain your footing on the back of a bucking rhino. Bumi’s balance, his Air Nation balance, his Water Tribe balance, was perfect. His centre of gravity was low, his footing stable.

 

Shan Yu was one slip away from a watery tomb.

 

“It’s not so easy, is it?” Bumi yelled his challenge. “Fighting soldiers instead of cutting down merchants.”

 

Shan Yu drew his sword. “My losses can all be replaced. Once I take your ship…”

 

“You won’t have the _Waverider_ today.” Bumi edged backwards out of range of Shan Yu’s blade. “We’re sailing into a hurricane out of control. You’ve doomed yourself and your crew.”

 

Shan Yu glanced down and smirked. Swords clashed and bending sparked as chaos raged across the decks of both ships. Fire had broken out in half a dozen places, a persistent and gnawing flame that continued in spite of the rain. “This is my hour, boy. You bear witness to the glorious destiny of Shan Yu.”

 

Bumi didn’t answer. The wood strained beneath their feet and he gave it a glance. “You should have lowered your topsail earlier.”

 

Shan Yu looked down. Bumi gave him a smile. “The topsail always goes first in a heavy storm. My uncle taught me that. Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe.”

 

The stresses of the wind had been twisting and turning at the mast head for too long. The spar broke away from rigging with a vicious crunch, Shan Yu and Bumi both tossed off their feet. Bumi had been anticipating the breakage when he made the climb, his only worry that it would break too soon. He fell with grace, stretching out his arms to catch the main yardarm on the way down.

 

His hands found purchase, his arms wrapping tight around the rigging…

 

…then was torn free as Shan Yu’s flailing hand grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him down with him. Bumi didn’t have the breath to scream as he fell, his eyes meeting Shan Yu’s for one terrible second before impact.

 

The Pirate Lord and Demon of the Seas broke his back across the rail of his own ship.

 

Bumi dropped into the roaring and foaming waves with barely a splash, the topsail landing almost right on top of him.

 

The water was so cold it drove the breath from his body in a flood of bubbles. The splintered wood bore him downwards into the murky dark, the frayed ropes wrapping his limbs like the tentacles of a cephlapod. Preventing a struggle. Preventing escape.

 

Horror seized Bumi body and soul. He ceased his writhing, paralysing terror and the growing weight of the water making any attempt at freedom unthinkable.

 

Silent and still, with his eyes fixed on the fires raging above the surface of the South Kingdom Sea, Bumi, son of Aang and Katara, began to drown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm telling you, Korra, I once dueled a pirate lord at the top of the mast of a burning ship in the middle of a storm!"
> 
> "Sure you did, Bumi, sure you did."


	5. The Foundations, Part Two: The Appetites of Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Survival is merely the first step on the journey home.

The Legend of Bumi

Chapter Five: The Foundations, Part Two

 

_“My father said that the rumours were the worst part. For weeks and weeks no one could get a clear story. Some said that a great naval battle had been fought off the southern coast of the Earth Kingdom, others said that it had been an ambush and a massacre. Others insisted that their cousin had sent word of a great victory, another would object and say his aunt had proclaimed a great tragedy had occurred. The gossip would continue for weeks, until my grandfather and grandmother were grey and pale with fear. Then one day two men in grey uniforms landed on the morning ferry. They tried to soften their arrival with words of false comfort. ‘Search parties are still out’, ‘pockets of survivors’, ‘possibilities of further sweeps’. All of it so much dust in the wind.” Meelo, Master of the Southern Temple. **‘The Making of Heroes, Book Two.’**_

 

 

 

**The Appetites of Man**

 

 

**_The smallest brother came closer as the light began to fade. The sun stretched a long reflection over the bay, the orange gold a perfect match for the soft and supple skin of the peach it sought. There was an edge to his movements, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the situation. The peaches were so fat with juice they were practically falling from the branches. But there had been other orchards filled with ripe fruit before he came here in the wooden box with his brothers and sisters. Those orchards were filled with children with shrill cries that hurt his ears and sharp rocks that bruised him awfully._ **

****

**_He was afraid of the rocks. So terribly afraid of the sharp rocks and the shrill cries. But there hadn’t been any rocks so far…and the peaches smelled so delicious…_ **

_“Look, Dad…” Bumi whispered. “He’s coming out…”_

_“He’s the shy one.” Dad agreed. “The shyest of his litter. All his brothers and sisters have already eaten. But this little one is cautious. He wants to make sure that no one is around, so be extra quiet.”_

_Bumi bit his lip and tried not to fidget. “Why is he so scared, dad?”_

_“He’s not scared, just cautious.” Dad squeezed his shoulder. “The farmers that caught them said that they used to get their children to drive them off when they raided the fruit trees. But, when your Uncle Sokka and I came looking for lemur colonies, they helped us trap them instead. So this little one and all his brothers and sisters can come live here at the Southern Temple instead, where they can have all the fruit they want.”_

_“But if they have all the fruit they want, why is he still scared?”_

_“He’s learned to be nervous around the fruit,” explained Dad. “He associates the fruit with his fear.”_

_Bumi thought about that for a minute. The lemur still didn’t come out. “But that’s silly, isn’t it?”_

_“Is it?” Dad asked. His eyebrow quirked and he stroked his beard in thought. “I’ve learned to be afraid of many things in my time. Things which hurt me or those I cared about.”_

_“Wbat could scare you?” Bumi protested the very idea. “You’re the Avatar, Dad. Nothing can hurt you.”_

_“Lightning did, once.” Dad answered solemnly. He pulled his shirt down a little to show the scar. “I’ve always been nervous in lightning storms ever since. I also kind of never bothered to learn how to bend it. Always claimed I didn’t have the aptitude whenever Zuko offered, but shush on that if he ever asks.”_

_“Our secret.” Bumi promised. His eyes stayed on the scar. “Dad…getting hurt by lightning…did it really scare you?”_

_Dad sighed. He took another peek at the lemur still inching down the rocks over the other side of the grove. “Let’s go down a little bit so we don’t scare the new guy.”_

_They slid back down the embankment they’d crawled up earlier. For once Bumi wasn’t worried about the dirt stains on his clothes. Mama couldn’t be angry about them if Dad had the same ones._

_Actually…maybe she could be angry about them, but Dad would get the lecture. Since Dad didn’t mind the lectures that was a win for everybody in Bumi’s book._

_Dad retrieved two peaches from the next set of trees and tossed one to Bumi. Catching it neatly, Bumi took a large bite. The juices splashed over his face and dribbled down his chin, though he nearly choked on a piece after Dad did the same and grinned at him through his mouthful._

_They found a seat to enjoy the sunset, a large, flat rock that had been gently warmed by the heat of the sun. Reclining on his arm and doing his best to mimic Dad’s posture, Bumi chewed on his peach and enjoyed the view of the valley below them. When they’d finished, they took a second to see who could throw their pits the furthest. Dad won easily by Bumi’s estimation. He always insisted that Dad never hold back in their contests. Uncle Sokka insisted that it was how Water Tribe warriors were raised and Dad had long ago agreed with Bumi’s assessment that if he couldn’t airbend then he’d become the greatest warrior the Water Tribe had ever seen. An Air-Water warrior of sorts._

_“What you asked me about being scared, son…it’s not something I like to think about. What I felt on that day, in that moment…it changed me forever.”_

_“Princess Azula had you pinned in the Crystal Caves.” Bumi recalled. “Uncle Zuko had lost his way and the Dai Li were helping them. Aunt Toph and Sokka were too far to help.”_

_Dad nodded. Normally he told the story with a mind to teasing Uncle Zuko for an error long forgiven. But now he was solemn, his jaw stiff and his brow furrowed. If Bumi looked closely at his eyes he could swear he saw an eerie green glow and the flash of fire against water and earth. “All true. I saw your mother was surrounded…I tried to let go. Enter the Avatar State of my own free will. But Azula…she saw me coming…”_

_He paused, his breathing returning from erratic to steady. Once he’d regained his centre he continued. “What I felt, son, was the most awful pain I ever knew both before and after that day. Worse than the burns Zuko had managed to land on me in the past, worse than the sting of the Dai Li rocks, worse than being bloodbent. Everything about me hurt, from the top of my skull to the bottom of my toes. And I was so afraid. Terrified out of my wits in the last few seconds that I had them.”_

_Try as he might, Bumi could not imagine feeling so bad. He shivered a little at something so terrible he couldn’t picture it. Dad must have felt him tremble. A moment later a warm arm rested over his shoulders. “Later on, I realised that I hadn’t been afraid for your mother at all. Outnumbered, surrounded and exhausted, she was vulnerable and on the verge of defeat. I hadn’t spared a thought for her.”_

_“But that’s not fair.” Bumi wrinkled his nose. “You were only a few years older than me. Kids get scared all the time. That’s what…”_

_“I know, son, I know.” Dad reassured him. “Your mother scolded me for thinking such a thing of myself. But for the longest time I was worried that if I faced a situation like that again, if I was to have my back against the wall, then I’d feel that same fear. That all-encompassing terror that crushes the heart and stifles the mind.”_

_“So?”_

_“So naturally I stay away from situations like that. Except when I really need to. And when I really need to? I don’t get afraid. Well…not that kind of fear.”_

_“But…” Bumi stopped. He didn’t want to say it._

_“Go on, son.”_

_“But you still get scared?”_

_“I do.”_

_“Of what?”_

_Dad pulled him close and kissed his head. “Of not seeing you or your sister again. The second that possibility arises…I feel like I’m twelve years old again with the lightning running through me.”_

_“And the baby?”_

_“And the baby.” Dad agreed. “I want to see your new brother or sister born so very badly. I want to watch you all grow up. But, for better or worse, I’m the Avatar. So when the time comes I try and think of the things that give me courage.”_

_That got Bumi’s attention. Things that gave courage were important. “What gives you courage?”_

_“You. Your sister. Your mother and the baby.”_

_Bumi was more confused than ever. “But I thought you said that we made you afraid?”_

_“I did.” Dad nodded._

_“Then how…how can we make you brave?”_

_“Oh Bumi…” His voice was tender. “The things which make a man afraid…truly afraid…they are the only things which can give him the truest courage of all.”_

_He leant down until his lips were at Bumi’s ear._

_“Now get up, son.” He whispered. “And be brave.”_

Bumi opened his eyes and stared at the bars of the cage. “I will not die here.”

 

Outside the cage, the guards gave him a questioning look, then shrugged and stared back at the campfire. In the forest beyond, Bumi could hear the sound of screaming.

 

Bumi clenched his fists. The lemur had gotten to the peach. He could get out of the cage.

 

“I will not die here.”

 

_Two weeks earlier…_

 

In the end he wasn’t sure if it was the pain in his arm, the pain in his leg, the pain in his head or the pain everywhere else that woke him up. But when he opened his eyes the pain was the first thing he saw, the first thing he heard and the first thing he tasted.

 

And it was getting worse as ungentle hands hauled him along burning hot sand. Away from the water. Away from his dreams.

 

“S-s-stop…” His voice was little more than a croak. “P-please stop!”

 

“Can’t stop.” A cheerful voice answered. “We can’t lay around in the surf all day, Bumi.”

 

The sun was like a welding touch on his dry eyeballs, but Bumi forced himself to squint up at the man dragging him. “Koga?”

 

“Glad to see you too, Bumi.” A tired grin was the best Koga could offer. “For a while I thought I was hauling around dead weight for no reason.”

 

“Hauling.” Bumi repeated. “Hauling…stop…hauling…”

 

Koga’s refusal came as a grunt. “Not yet. You’re dehydrated. I need to put you in the shade and find some fresh water. Just a little bit longer.”

 

“Please…my leg…”

 

“There’s nothing I can do for it until I know you’re not going to die of thirst.”

 

Since Koga’s tone brooked no argument Bumi decided to console himself by softly moaning at each bump that shook the fire in his leg back awake. It seemed like the sand went on into eternity, a never ending drag across burning grains that rubbed his skin red and raw. The sky was the clearest blue he had ever seen. Not a single cloud to block out the sun or rain down cool water on his aching head.

 

“Here we go.” The shade of the palms was only a momentary relief. The crash of the surf seemed to set the rhythm of the pain pulsing through his body, a slow and heavy drumbeat that prevented any courage, any resistance against it. “Let me get you comfortable.”

 

Bumi felt Koga’s fingers on his wrist, then a hand pressed briefly to his chest. Koga nodded thoughtfully. “Your pulse is good, there’s nothing obstructing your breathing. That’s good.”

 

“Good?” Bumi’s head wasn’t up to one of Koga’s jokes. “I think I’m about to die.”

 

“Don’t be melodramatic.” Koga squeezed his shoulder. “You’re not hurt that bad. Trust me, I did the Combat Medic course, I know what I’m talking about.”

 

He started to stand up, but Bumi grabbed his arm. “How bad am I hurt?”

 

Koga looked down the beach. “I should really find some water…”

 

“How bad?” Bumi didn’t let go. “What’s wrong with me?”

 

Carefully unlacing Bumi’s fingers, Koga gestured at his leg. “That’s broken. Not badly. Simple fracture, I think. Once I splint it you’ll have some mobility again. Your arm got cut by something when you fell. Bad cut, but you didn’t bleed too much. Cold salt water helped with that. I can stitch it up so nice you won’t even scar. Probably. Now, can I go get some water?”

 

“How are you going to carry it?” Bumi croaked.

 

Koga held up two canteens. “We both fell overboard with our harnesses on. I’ve got my medkit as well. I’ll be quick.”

 

Before Bumi could protest, his fellow Marine had begun an easy loping stride away from him, heading further along the beach to somewhere Bumi couldn’t see. He tried leaning up further to see but his arms were like jelly. The effort knocked him flat on his back and the world swam before his eyes and faded into a sickly shade of purple. It seemed to last for years, the sensation only deepening as he screwed his eyes shut and tried to block it out. Gentle hands raised his head and pressed a water bottle to his lips. He sucked at it greedily, the water so pure and so cold that it stung and burned as it passed through his cracked lips and over his salt-crusted tongue. One bottle was replaced by a second. Water and more water until the aching receded and the purple turned to peaceful darkness.

 

_“Dad? Why is he afraid? The peach is right there?”_

_“Have you ever been afraid?”_

_“Dad…I’m afraid. I’m so afraid…”_

The crack of a branch jerked him away from a kind voice whispering in his ear. He almost sat up before a hand caught his chest.

 

“Easy…” A kind voice…Koga’s voice, cautioned him. “I splinted up the leg as best I could, but I’m going to need more than strips of shirt and bamboo if it’s going to last long.”

 

“How long was I…” Bumi winced as a lingering throb made itself known against both sides of his skull. “What time is it?”

 

“Sun’s been down for about two hours. After that…” Koga shrugged. “…you’ve probably been asleep for about twelve hours. Made splinting your leg and sewing up your arm real easy, so thanks for that. You’ve got a few more cuts and bruises, might want to get a few check-ups done by a proper doctor, but for now I think you’re out of danger.”

 

Bumi’s stomach growled at the same time as the aroma of roasting meat softly wafted to his nostrils. “How about the danger of starving?”

 

“Got you covered.” Koga brought up a broad leaf covered with chunks of meat. “Caught a brace of rabbits while you were napping. Think you can hold it down?”

 

“You’ve seen me hold down worse.” Bumi gave him a tired smile before beginning his meagre meal. “Remember that survival exercise? Staff Sergeant Machiko made us eat half the roots on the island to show us the effects.”

 

“I remember.” Koga lifted his water bottle and grimaced slightly. “I remember it made Edano sick to his stomach. Yoshi too.”

 

“Lin wasn’t looking too steady…”

 

“…but Shin was chowing down on anything he could see.” Koga finished. “I’ve never seen anyone laugh as hard as Hahn when Shin started eating everything that we couldn’t stomach.”

 

“Yeah…Hahn laughed…” Bumi said. He swallowed hard, “Did you see…I mean…did the medics get to him?”

 

“Bumi, I saw Hahn….I saw his body.” Koga turned his head, looking anywhere but at Bumi. “He was dead before he hit the deck.”

 

“And the others?”

.

Bumi tried to keep his tone even. He knew Koga heard the tremble. “Koga, what happened to the others?”

 

“Bumi, when…when I saw you go overboard…we weren’t losing but we weren’t winning either.” Koga still didn’t look at him. “Sidao took everyone we had left that wasn’t on damage control or fighting boarders and led us over. We had no other options…I mean...well, it was the right move. It was. But when I went over I saw Sidao go down. Shin was still up. Lin was still up. Edano was wounded, but Yoshi was covering him.”

 

He paused. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

 

Bumi bit down harder on the rabbit. “Go on.”

 

“I found you getting dragged down by wreckage. You weren’t awake. I got you to the surface, hauled you up on a spare bit of timber I found. But with the storm…the waves…I couldn’t swim the both of us back to the _Waverider_. I was nearly drowning just trying to keep us both afloat. The current kept pulling us away…we went down a few times. And then when we came up I saw…I saw…”

 

“Say it!” Koga flinched at his voice.

 

“I saw them burning…” Koga said. “The sails…like candles on a cake. I went down for…for quite some time. When the sun came up there was nothing. Nothing at all. They’re all gone, Bumi. Everyone. Commander Kim…Edano…Lin…everyone.”

 

“Gone.” The word didn’t feel right on his tongue. “Gone…”

“Maybe the current carried us too far.” Koga offered weakly. “Maybe over the edge of the horizon. We had waterbenders on the crew.”

 

 _“Any uncontrolled fire at sea equals death.”_ Bumi repeated the words like they tasted of ash. “Remember what they taught us during damage control? If the fire spread that far it meant they couldn’t put it out. Couldn’t put it out…because they were too busy fighting. Do you think any of our waterbenders could have put out a blaze like that?”

 

The low crackling of the cooking fire was the only answer he heard.

 

When Koga did speak his voice was steady. “You finished with the rabbit?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Good.” Koga tossed the leaf on the fire. “I’ll do some fishing and trapping tomorrow. We’ll need to lay up some food. Plenty of it, too.”

 

“Why?”

 

Koga gave him a strange look. “For the journey home.”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

The breeze was warm and soft as it came in off the bay. A gentle whisper of salt and brine over the faintest hint of stone from the cliffs. No perfume from his mother’s garden ever smelled so sweet to Bumi’s nose.

 

Koga’s voice floated up from the beach. “I’ve floated it four times and it’s stayed afloat four times. I think I’ve finally got it.”

 

“I think that last batch of sap did it.” Bumi agreed. He limped a little further down the beach, his crutch sinking into the sand as he nearly overbalanced.

 

“How long do you think it’ll hold?”

 

“Hard to say.” Bumi took a moment to examine the raft. Koga had managed to keep hold of his cutlass. Under Bumi’s direction he had felled and trimmed several young saplings in roughly even lengths. Even half drowned, Koga had possessed enough wits to drag the wreckage out of the tide a week earlier. There’d been rope with the wreckage, enough to bind the saplings together whilst the sap set. Canvas, too. Frayed and fragmented, but a solid core that was salvageable. Bumi had trimmed the canvas into a rough triangle and sewn up the edges. It wasn’t his finest example of sailmaking but it was more or less the way Grandpapa and Uncle Sokka had shown him.

 

“You’ve done this before, right?” Koga asked. His voice was steady but his eyes betrayed his nervousness.

 

“Yeah…absolutely.” Bumi re-examined the knots. “My Uncle first showed me how to do this with some loose planks, string and glue.”

 

“And…how long did it last?”

 

Bumi paused. “Well…about ten yards before the whole thing fell apart. But I got better at it.”

 

“How much better?” The note of worry in his voice became more urgent.

 

“The only thing that sank my last one was a bad current and a cliff.”

 

“How long ago was that?”

 

“Five years. More or less.”

 

“…I’m going to layer on more sap.”

 

“That would probably be wise.”

 

It was a simple matter to stoke the fire and heat up more of the improvised pitch. It wasn’t the same quality sap as the trees in the Northern Earth Kingdom and Bumi lacked nails, planks, and a dozen other items that would have greatly improved the survivability of the craft. But Koga was adaptable and clever with his hands. The excellent splint on Bumi’s fractured leg and the crutch that let him limp around were a testament to that fact. The rope was naval grade, far better than any Bumi had ever used. He’d made what he could, and what he couldn’t he had carefully guided Koga through.

 

The end result hadn’t succeeded straight away. The effort of the first few days had nearly ended in disaster when the cursed thing sank on the first tests. More adjustments followed. More additions. Extra sap, extra lashings, a makeshift keel and an improvised rudder. The result might not have impressed Uncle Sokka, but it would get them where they were going.

 

“Are you sure we can’t get to Blackrock Harbour with the new rudder? It’s at least two hundred miles closer.” Koga finished the first line of sap and eyed it critically.

 

“Two hundred miles and up current.” Bumi said. He stirred the next batch and sniffed. “It’s three hundred miles to Fairwind Bay, but that takes us with the current and with the prevailing wind. We could make fifty miles a day if the winds stay with us. We’d be lucky to make five heading up the coast.”

 

“That’s a week of travel. More if the raft needs repairs along the way.”

 

“It will. Which is why we need to head to Fairwind. My Uncle took me and my sister sailing down near there. It’s open beaches for most of the coastline and the sea is calm. We can put in whenever we need to. Slow going, but we’ll make it.”

 

“And remind me again why we can’t go overland? There have to be passes through the mountains.”

 

“Probably. But I don’t know them. You don’t know them. We could wander through valleys for a year and not find the way to Blackrock. Precious little chance of finding a village.” Bumi handed him the pitch. “This is our best chance.”

 

“Well,” Koga gazed back to the horizon of the bay and gave a sigh.. “Guess we’re going sailing.”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

“I forgot to ask!” Koga bellowed over the wind. “Did you ever actually take your rafts out into open sea?”

 

“No!” Bumi yelled back. “Just around Yue Bay. You see a raft, not having a proper hull, is always vulnerable to…”

 

“Nevermind.” Koga forced the rudder to the right as another wave swept over the deck.

 

“Keep her to port! There’s a break in the surf.”

 

“I see it!”

 

Bumi pulled the rope in his hands as taut as possible. The sail caught the wind well, too well. The raft was almost carried past the break, forcing him to hastily let it slip. Somehow the acceleration counterbalanced with the swell, the raft slipping out between the gap in the surf as if string through the eye of a needle.

 

“Alright, now help me with this.” Bumi hauled on the sail. “Fix it there. _There!_ Tighter! Alright, that’s it!”

 

Koga slumped back against the mast, wiping the sea spray from his brow. “I don’t remember small boat drills being that hard in basic.”

 

Bumi gave the supplies a check over before he replied. Everything was still tied down and secured. “It’s not enough to float. It needs raised edges, a proper hull, a keel, everything that we don’t have. Small boat drills _were_ easier. This is like trying to run with lead in your boots.”

 

“Well, at least the boots don’t have holes.” Koga examined the logs again. “No leaks yet.”

 

“Yeah, but we were lucky to dodge those waves.” Bumi looked back at the surf line. “We’ll need to time it better tomorrow, get out while the surf is quiet.”

 

“Provided we don’t sink along the way.” Koga said.

 

“Provided we don’t sink along the way.” Bumi agreed. “But I don’t think we will. The _Yue_ will get us home safe and sound.”

 

Koga grunted. “Great. I’m sure naming our raft after a dead Northern princess will bring us all the luck in the world.”

 

“She’s the moon spirit, Koga.” Bumi said. “The eternal consort of the Ocean Spirit. You don’t think it’s a good idea to invoke her protection?”

 

“I don’t know.” Koga said. His eyes flicked up at the sun. “Maybe asking the Sun Spirit would have been a better idea, so he wouldn’t shine so brightly. Or the Wind Spirit, so that she could give us a more favourable wind.”

 

“Ah, but my family has a connection to her.” Bumi said. He looked up to check on the sail as he continued.. “And besides, if you consider it rightly, appealing to the Moon Spirit has more than just…”

 

It was one idle conversation out of many. Hours passed by as they talked on everything from bars to brawls to the ever popular subject of girls. Koga talked about meeting Edano and Yoshi in the middle of a barfight which, predictably, Edano had started. Bumi told stories of home. Of the antics of his uncles and the stoic patience of Mom and Aunt Suki when dealing with Toph’s reprisals against Uncle Sokka. The current and wind did the work. The sea was gentle beyond the surf and the breeze refreshing. Bumi kept a careful track of the sun in the sky whilst Koga checked for leaks without pause. When they grew hungry they ate and drank sparingly from the supplies. There was no way of telling whether their next bay would have the same resources in meat and fruit.

 

Landing was easier than expected, Bumi pushing from behind as Koga dragged the raft up above the tideline. Though both men were tired, Bumi insisted that they take time to forage for their evening meal. An hour had seen a rabbit trapped and enough wild fruit located that Bumi was confident they wouldn’t dip into their reserve. He fell asleep almost immediately after dinner, his dreams filled with images of a beautiful woman with white hair pointing toward home.

 

The next day was more of the same, an early rise followed by a hasty breakfast. Koga checked Bumi’s splint carefully, clicking his teeth a little as he ran his fingers down the skin. “Well. I’m more trained in initial treatment than prolonged recovery, but I’d say this is actually healing. It’d be better with a full cast or a waterbender, but your responses are all fairly normal. Can’t guarantee that it’ll heal right, but you should be able to move without the splint in another week or so.”

 

“With any luck we’ll almost be at Fairwind by then.” Bumi winced as Koga rebound the limb. “Can’t say I’ll be too sorry to be out of your tender care.”

 

“Can’t say I’ll be sorry not to be listening to you whine about my best work.” Koga finished his knots with a grin. “Come on. We made maybe thirty miles yesterday. If we don’t make fifty today then we might as well start walking.”

 

They didn’t make fifty miles, but neither did they start walking. The current and wind were still in their favour and the raft peaceably ate up the knots at a respectable pace. Three to four miles each hour was not much. But ten to twelve hours of sailing on the second day, the third and the fourth made Bumi happy enough to call for a rest on the fifth.

 

“It’d be smart to collect more sap for the raft.” He said. “We’re at least halfway by now, maybe a little more. I don’t want to push it too hard and wind up swimming the last hundred miles.”

 

“Well…if you think it’s best.” Koga said.

 

Bumi blinked. “That was quick.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Thought I’d have to convince you.”

 

“Bumi, not going to lie to you, I’m still half convinced we’re sailing on a death trap as it is.” Koga said. His hands betrayed a faint tremble that travelled to his shoulders. “That we’ve gotten this far when all the others didn’t even…”

 

Bumi stayed the tremors with a gentle hand. “Let’s get a proper fire going after we catch some fish. I’ll show you a recipe my mother taught me with bush plums and sea salt.”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

“Your mother…” Koga mumbled through a half full mouth. “…should have a statue cast in bronze and set above Yue Bay for a recipe like that.” His lips smacked as he pulled the last of the fish off the bone.

 

Bumi patted his own stomach as he lay down by the fire. “If you think that was good you should taste it when she actually makes it. Better yet, try Uncle Sokka’s cooking. You’ll think you’re tasting something stolen from the spirit world.”

 

“I always thought Water Tribe food was just seal jerky and smoked fish?”

 

Bumi almost raised an eyebrow before remembering Koga probably wouldn’t see it. “Well first, it’s a hell of a lot more than that. There’s also whale, bear, chicken-penguin and a few other kinds of meat. That’s not even counting all the crops brought in by trade from Whaletail Island. And second, my mother and uncle spent a full year getting chased back and forth across the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation when they were kids. They learned to live off _everything_ edible they could find. Make it taste good, too.”

 

The fire blazed merrily away, its heat a welcome shield from the wind coming off the bay. Bumi shivered despite, and privately wished for the thick woollen greatcoat lying at the bottom of his footlocker. Except…that wasn’t right, was it? His coat was at the bottom of the sea along with his footlocker and his friends. The chill that followed was not something the fire could undo.

 

Koga’s voice interrupted his thoughts of cold. He looked up to catch the tail end of the sentence. “What?”

 

“I said we used to play at being them. Edano, Yoshi and me.” Koga said. Spearing a sliver of meat on a long stick, he held it over the flames and let it char, his eyes gazing into the coals in a stare that had no end. “Back when we were just dumb kids.”

 

He must have caught Bumi’s amused snort. “Well, dumber kids. Two of us would pretend to be Sokka and Aang, the other one would pretend to be Zuko and chase us around.”

 

Bumi lifted himself up on his elbow. “Who did you play?”

 

“Huh? We took turns.”

 

“Oh come on. Everyone has a favourite.” Bumi leaned in. “Kya and I used to make Tenzin pretend to be Momo when he was smaller. Mom couldn’t stop laughing when she found him swooping around pretending to be a lemur.”

 

“No kidding?” Koga grabbed his meat and crunched it between his teeth. “Alright. My favourite was Aang. Everybody’s was.”

 

“No surprises there.”

 

“But.” Koga finished his swallow. “Edano always wanted to be Aang. And, since he was the only one who could bend, it always made sense that he do it instead of us. Yoshi was too slow to make it much fun, so I wound up playing as Zuko a lot.”

 

Bumi flicked up a thumb and held it critically over his sightline to Koga’s face. “Nope. Don’t see it.”

 

“They used to put a mud patch around my eye. It wasn’t the best, but once they spiked my hair up I thought it looked good.” Koga said. He stirred the fire with the stick, a wistful glint in his eye. “I didn’t think it was so bad…playing at Zuko, a Prince denied his honour.”

 

He suddenly glanced up. “What’s he like?”

 

“Uncle Zuko?” Bumi paused. “I…I don’t know…I’ve never really thought about how to describe him before.”

 

“Is he anything like the stories?” Koga sat up, eagerness on his face. “Is it true that he can summon dragonfire? Does he really summon lightning when he’s angry?”

 

“Slow it down.” Bumi laughed. “I’ve never seen him do the dragonfire thing. Or the lightning. Or…be angry…”

 

Memories of vacations on Ember Island came to him, Izumi pecking him on the cheek before pushing him into the surf. The unholy noise she’d made when he and Kya had executed their revenge plot with the green dye. Getting collared by Auntie Toph as they tried to make their escape. Even now it made him grin. And suddenly he had the words.

 

“He’s kind.” He said. “And calm. Maybe the calmest person I know. Even Dad gets stretched out sometimes. Kya and I could sure put some grey in his beard when we wanted to. But not Uncle Zuko. Him? You could cause anything up to a minor rebellion and he’d simply nod his head wisely and invite you to share some tea.”

 

“Sounds like someone I’d like to meet.”

 

“Well when we get back you should.” Bumi offered. “Come around to Air Temple Island when we get back. Meet the legends for yourself.”

 

“You know, I just might…” Koga suddenly sat up. “Did you hear that?”

 

Bumi looked around. “No. What was it?”

 

“Sounded like…voices…” Koga paused. “Remember what Pimniq taught us about whispers? How the hiss carries?”

 

He stopped. “There it is again. I swear, there’s someone out…”

 

Bumi hooked his good leg under his bad one, grabbing his crutch to force himself upright. “Villagers, maybe?”

 

“Yeah, maybe…” Koga trailed off. “What do you think?”

 

“Well, if they already know where we are…” Bumi shuffled forward. “Hello out there?” The crashing of the waves and the wind in the trees was the only response.

 

“Maybe a different language?” Koga offered. “Water Tribe maybe?”

 

Bumi repeated himself. “Nothing. Are you sure about what you heard?”

 

“Maybe not.” Koga said with a sigh. “Sorry, guess I was just…ow!”

 

“What…ow!” Bumi grabbed the side of his neck. “What in the name of…”

 

Something stiff and feathered was stuck in the side of his neck. Tugging the object free he took a closer look. “That’s a dart. Koga?” He looked over in time to see Koga collapse to the sand. “Koga? What are you…”

 

His vision swam in front of his eyes, Koga’s outline dimming and blurring before his good knee turned to soft mush. Before the world faded to black he felt the soft patter of footsteps vibrating through the sand.

 

_“Bumi will never bend, Aang. You need to accept it.”_

_“Sometimes it takes a while. Uni and Pava didn’t start bending till they were eight. I just need to do what Monk Gyatso did. Put him in situations that will bring out his bending.”_

_“It won’t work. All you’re doing is scaring him!”_

_“Katara that’s not…Bumi isn’t afraid of anything!”_

_“He’s not afraid of danger. He’s afraid of disappointing you! Some nights he cries himself sick over it. Let it go, for your sake and his!”_

_“Kat, I just…I just can’t give up yet. I can’t. I have to help Bumi fight through this.”_

_“Aang!”_

_“Bumi…son, what are you doing out of bed?”_

_“Here, I’ll take him back.”_

_“No. Go check on Kya. I’ll tuck him in.”_

_“There you go, son. Would you like a story before bedtime?”_

_“What? Bumi, no. No there’s nothing wrong with you. Nothing at all.”_

_“Well…sometimes it happens that way. Sometimes people can’t bend no matter who their parents were. It doesn’t change how much I love you. It never will. Now go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”_

_“Yes, I promise.”_

**-TLoB-**

 

_“Wake up, Bumi…”_

 

“Dad?” He croaked the word past parched lips.

 

“Bumi, wake up!” Something hard smacked him in the head. Bumi sat up with a gasp, then cried out as a spasm shot through his fractured leg. His word whipped around, looking for the fire and Koga. There was a fire, but no beach. And Koga was there…but locked into the cage next door to his own.

 

“You’re awake.” Tension drained from Koga’s face as he slumped down to his knees. “I guessed that dart would do a number on you, but I didn’t think it’d last this long.”

 

Bumi slipped down onto his back as the pain began to recede. “We got…those darts…?”

 

“Some kind of poison or drug.” Koga finished for him. “I must have heard them just as they were getting ready to hit us.”

 

Rolling onto his good side, Bumi examined the cage. It was a sturdy construction at first glance, bamboo poles fastened together with metal wiring. A primitive design, but clearly one which the builders knew well. “How long was I out for?”

 

“I couldn’t be exact. When I woke up it was late morning. Sun went down about an hour ago. I didn’t feel safe waking you up until the guards wandered over by the fire.” Koga nodded to the bars. “In between throwing rocks at you I’ve been testing this cage. It’s well built. I don’t think I can see a weakness.”

 

“There is no weakness.” A voice said from behind them. Bumi twisted to see a third cage. A man was leaning against the bars, a greybeard in fisherman’s clothes. “I’ve tried a dozen times to break free. I and my sons and my crew when they were here. All younger and stronger than I. If seven strong men could not break free, what chance do a cripple and a weakling have?”

 

Bumi looked back to Koga. “Who’s this?”

 

“Our new roommate.” Koga flicked his wrist. “Sheng, this is Bumi, Bumi this is Sheng. A fisherman out of Fairwind Bay. He and his crew were taken about four weeks ago when they put in for fresh water.”

 

“Taken…agh!” Bumi winced, a spike of pain driving straight down the centre of his skull. “Taken by whom? Pirates?”

 

“Pirates…” Sheng’s laugh was bitter and hollow. “I’ve met more pirates in my voyages than I’ve had hot dinners. Forfeited cargos to them. Gave them my fish. Bartered with them on occasion. And had an ear and a finger carved off on others. These be no pirates. Not nearly half so reasonable.”

 

“He calls them ‘Children of the Foundations’.” Koga quoted. “Demons of the old mountains who feast on human flesh.”

 

“Demons?” Bumi could see the guards. “Look human enough to me.”

 

“That’s what I figured.” Koga shrugged. “Best I can figure? They’re some kind of mountain tribe. Don’t know the language, but they don’t look much different to anyone else from the Southern Earth Kingdom. Not demons. That’s the good news.”

 

“Bad news?”

 

“The human flesh thing is definitely real. I’ve been smelling pork all day.” Koga forced out a smile. “And Sheng has been kind enough to regale me with some of the local legends.”

 

“They come down from the mountains just before winter. Never each year, never all at once.” Sheng rattled the bars of his cage, as if on cue. “They take the hunters. They take the farmers’ children from the streams. They take any foolish enough to stray outside the walls. Then gone, gone, gone, before the soldiers come.”

 

Bumi made sense of the words easily enough. “This…I know this. Aunt Suki said…it’s part of Avatar Kyoshi’s legend. She fought the people of a mad Lord of the Vale in a ten year campaign. Powerful earthbenders, cannibals who took a tribute of young men and women from all the cities in the south. They even sailed and raided as far as Whaletail Island and the Southern Water Tribe.”

 

“She came, she came, Kyoshi came.” Sheng sang in a cracked voice. “She put their mightiest warriors to shame and rock and vale she did tame.”

 

“She landed with one hundred firebenders, one hundred waterbenders, one hundred earthbenders and one hundred airbenders in the middle of a storm.” Bumi recalled. “She used the airbenders to calm the skies and the waterbenders to calm the seas. They called that harbour Fairwind Bay afterwards. Then she marched up and down the coast and recruited the villagers to her army, convinced them to rise in revolt against the Mad Lord. By the time he marched his army out to meet her she had almost equal numbers.”

 

“These must be the descendants of whoever survived.” Koga shot a furtive glance back over his shoulder. “I didn’t see many of them. Maybe twenty in the camp at the moment?”

 

“Hunting parties out. Far out. As far as Blackrock. As far as Lordsfall.” Sheng muttered. “First they hunt, then they catch, bring them back and slice and smoke. But they’ll come back soon, oh yes they will, oh yes they will.”

 

Bumi’s eyes met Koga’s. “We have to get out of here.”

 

Koga tapped idly on the bars. “I’m open to suggestions.”

 

Bumi pulled himself close to the bars, examining the wire closely. “They didn’t thread the wire through the bamboo?”

 

“Probably takes too long to bore the holes. Besides, it’s tight enough that the bamboo won’t rattle loose.” His friend rattled the bars again to emphasise.

 

“That wasn’t what I was thinking.” Bumi felt the wire, testing it under his fingers. “If they take these cages down and put them back up again using the same wire, they’ve already twisted it who knows how many times. Remember when you were stringing out the wire from the windlass and it snapped?”

 

“Yeah…Pimniq gave us all that lecture on not reusing wire too much...especially rusted wire.” Koga rechecked the construction of his own cage. “There’s deformities, rust as well.”

 

“Find the worst bit you can.” Bumi was already feeling along the wire. “Don’t look at the bars, just the wire. Anywhere where it might be brittle. One snap in the line…”

 

“…and we can unravel enough to get out.” Koga finished. “I think I’ve got something.”

 

“Use the edge of a rock, twist it, anything you can think of. Just get it loose.” Bumi found his own place, a well rusted turn in the wire that had fractured a little. His fingers fumbled for a suitable rock. Smooth wouldn’t do. It needed to have a hard edge, preferably a jagged one. Even then, if the rust was just on the surface he was still wasting his time. It would need to be all the way through for his improvised saw to have any effect.

 

“Sheng? Sheng! Pick up a rock, man. Find a weak spot.”

 

“Weak spot? Weak spot? No. No weak spots. Already looked. Sons. Crew. All looked. All locked. All sliced and diced, one by one. Chief saves me for last. Not enough meat. Fatten up with fish and melons.” Sheng giggled. “But I don’t eat. Oh no. Too smart for chief, too smart for you. They’ll not eat me yet. Not yet, not yet.”

 

Further prompting proved useless. They went back to work, rocks working furiously but with terribly slow results against even the rustiest parts of the wire.

 

“I saw the way their water party came from earlier.” Koga murmured as he worked. “If it’s the same stream that feeds to our beach then it should bring us out close to the raft.”

 

“We hit open water and don’t touch land again till we get to Fairwind.” Bumi kept sawing, his fingers beginning to bleed and scab. “Not even if we run out of food or water. We keep going.”

 

“Agreed.” Koga nodded grimly. “And then we raise Blackrock and get them to send a whole battalion out here to slaughter these savages. How could this have been going on for so long?”

 

Bumi shook his head. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? If they only pick off stragglers? Hunting parties, random fishermen, children who get lost? What garrison commander in one of the major ports is going to believe that there’s a tribe of cannibals on the loose?”

 

“Fair point, I guess…” Koga suddenly hissed.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Wire sliced my hand as it broke.” Koga wiped his hand distractedly. “I’m through.”

 

Quickly unravelling the wrap from the break, Koga was able to loosen the bars wide enough to climb out. He looked behind him before he did. “The guards are lying down. Do you think they’re asleep? I could get their keys.”

 

“Don’t try it.” Bumi tested his own wire. “Start working on Sheng’s.”

 

“We’re taking him?”

 

“What’s our choice? Leave him for the cannibals?”

 

Koga hesitated. “Bumi, he’s not in his right mind. All day he’s been saying…well, saying some not very sane things. You’ll already be slow with that leg. If we take him with us he might get us caught.”

 

Bumi shook his head. The wire coming loose in his hands just proved that the spirits smiled on his decision. “We can’t leave him. We’ll manage, I promise.”

 

“Alright, alright.” Koga didn’t argue. Pushing the bars a little wider he climbed out and made his way around to Sheng’s cage. Grabbing a rock he bent down to find a gap in the wire. “Be thankful to Bumi, Sheng. Without him we might not be making this escape…

 

The shriek that echoed across the forest from Sheng’s throat was only matched by Koga’s as the fisherman dropped to his knees, yanked at Koga’s fingers and bit down into them with all the force the old man’s jaw could summon.

 

“Koga!” Bumi scrambled out of his cage and grabbed at Koga’s arms. Sheng hadn’t let go. Bumi jabbed through the bars on instinct, his closed fist popping Sheng right between his eyebrows.

 

Sheng fell onto his back, his mouth thick with blood. “NO ESCAPE! NO ESCAPE!”

 

“My fingers!” Koga was weeping involuntarily, his hands covered with blood and dirt. “You mad bastard!”

 

“No escape! They won’t eat Sheng while they’ve got tender meat.” Sheng flew at the bars, his hands clawing for them as they staggered out of their reach. “They came for Ming and Fa and Chan, but not Sheng! Not Sheng while you’re here! No escape!”

 

“Bumi, leave him!” Koga tugged at his sleeve. “It’s him or us!”

 

Bumi could see the guards already up and moving toward the cages, their eyes squinting to see what the old man was screaming about. Any pity that he felt for the broken old man was quashed by the overwhelming need to survive. He limped after Koga, the pair fleeing into the edge of the forest.

 

His leg screamed as they crashed through the undergrowth, yet the fear in his belly that had tyranny over his limbs forbade him from stopping to find a crutch of some kind. “Koga!”

 

“I’m here!” His friend called back. “I can see the stream! The beach can’t be far!”

 

“Koga, wait…I can’t…” Bumi’s good leg came down at a bad angle and he screamed as his ankle twisted. He fell like an ungainly bison, arms and legs thrashing as he rolled down the slight hill. He came to a sudden stop, hitting a tree broadside with an impact that he knew had broken ribs. As the noise of his crash subsided he could hear the sound of angry voices screaming in pursuit.

 

“Bumi!” Koga’s shout was laden with horror.

 

“Go!” Bumi tried to push himself up and failed as his legs both shouted their protests. “Get yourself out!”

 

There was no reply, only the continued cacophony of breaking branches and rustling leaves. Bumi rolled over onto his back as the tribesmen came. Tall and fearsome looking men and women, clad in animal hides and wearing decorations of bones that he feared to guess the origin of. A bone-tipped spear was thrust under his chin, and he raised his hands in a weak gesture of surrender. One of them sniffed the air and barked a question. And then Koga was there.

 

Not a bender like Edano, no martial prodigy like Yoshi, Bumi nevertheless watched in pained amazement as Koga smashed a rock the size of his head into the face of one of the hunters. Retrieving the spear, the wiry youth ducked a wild thrust before expertly skewering his attacker under the armpit. Corporal Pimniq would have wept with pride to see his worst student spin easily out of reach of a third attacker before dropping her with a knife hand to the throat.

 

But it was a fight between skill and numbers. And numbers had a skill all of their own. One club found his leg, another the small of his back. Stunned, he was helpless against the fist that cracked his jaw. A dozen hands beat him to the ground, and a dozen feet made sure he stayed there.

 

The last thing Bumi saw before they yanked a hood over his head was blood oozing from Koga’s ear as his beating continued.

 

**-TLoB-**

 

“We need to stop.” Bumi begged for the fifth time that morning. “He needs water and rest. Do you understand me? Water and rest. He’s dying.”

 

Whether the porters currently carrying the swaying bamboo pole Bumi was slung beneath understood any of what he was saying or if they just didn’t care, the effect was still the same. A poke with a stick, a grunted curse and an angry look that seemed to say _‘shut up or you’ll get far worse than he did.’_

 

What Koga had gotten had been bad enough. Two of their number had been easily slain by Koga, and a third had choked to death on a collapsed larynx. Her slow and painful demise had been mourned with anguished wails and screams of rage at the still unconscious man.

 

They’d been thrown back in their cages under double guard, much to the relief and delight of a delirious Sheng. Bumi had been tempted to reach through the bars and strangle the mad traitor, but had forgone that pleasure in favour of trying to treat Koga’s extensive injuries with nothing but mud, grass and pebbles.

 

Bumi had assessed Koga’s shattered leg as being in far worse condition than his own fracture. Taking off the splint had been horrendously painful. Rigging it up on Koga had been difficult, but he was satisfied that it wouldn’t fall off. After that he could assess his own injuries. His fractured leg was tender, but it could take his weight while he walked. The ankle on his other was sprained, but if he bound it up he was confident that it was mobile.

 

More hunting parties had come in at dawn. Ten, fifteen, twenty at a time. By mid morning there were close on two hundred warriors in the camp. All of whom were glaring at him with naked rage. A few of them even shouted at him.

 

He managed to get Sheng’s attention without angering his guards. “Do you understand what they’re saying?”

 

Sheng grinned at him. “Your friend killed Chosen.”

 

“Chosen?”

 

“Spirit Chosen. A fighter picked by Koh the Great Devourer to execute his will in the mortal world. They are debating his punishment.”

 

“Great.” Bumi shifted Koga’s head. “So not only are we going to be eaten, we’re going to be tortured and eaten.”

 

“Oh, that is the best news.” Sheng perked up. “No matter what punishment they talk of, the place of punishment will be the same. The Spire.”

 

“The Spire?”

 

Sheng raised a finger. Bumi looked. “Oh.”

 

Less than an hour later they were each trussed up to a bamboo pole and carried between rotating teams on a winding path toward the mountains and the mammoth peak stretching into the ether above them. Ever step the porters took was another swing through the rope around his ankles and wrists, a fresh bout of agony to grapple with. Sheng, on the other hand, was humming cheerfully to himself. When Bumi asked for the reason why he was more than happy to answer.

 

“They have the meat. Enough. More than enough. No need for Sheng. Stringy old Sheng. Sometimes they keep the extras. For talk. For trade.”

 

“You’ll serve the people who killed and ate your sons?”

 

Sheng blinked. “Sons were weak. Could not survive. I will survive.”

 

“Great.” Bumi bit his lip as the front porter stumbled over a log. “Being carried to a torturous death with only a madman and cannibals for company. Mom might just kill me herself when I tell her about this.”

 

Sheng let out a giggle. “You’re a funny man, Bumi.”

 

“Thank you, Sheng.”

 

“Yes. You still believe you might survive this. It is hilarious.”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

Koga’s eyes flickered open as the third sip of water passed his lips.

 

“Bumi?” He breathed the word over dried tongue and past cracked lips.

 

“Drink.” Bumi lifted his head. “There’ll be time for talking later.”

 

Koga didn’t seem in the mood to argue. There was a greedy edge to his eyes as he slurped on the slow stream of cool stream water. “They wouldn’t give me any food.” Bumi said by way of apology. “But they gave me back our bottles. I don’t think they want you to die before we get to the Spire.”

 

“Spire?”

 

“Place of punishment for their tribe. They think you offended the spirts by killing that third warrior.”

 

“I killed three?”

 

“Third one choked to death.”

 

Koga closed his eyes. “Pimniq wouldn’t believe it. Unarmed…and I got three of them…ow.”

 

“Easy, easy…” Bumi lifted his head for another sip. “The leg is bad, but your spine is in way worse shape right now.”

 

“Right, right, of course. That would explain why breathing hurts right now.”

 

“It hurts, but put you in a tub of fresh, steaming hot South Pole water and give two or three good healers a week or so. They’ll set you right again.”

 

“I’m liking the part about the healers.” Koga said. “One favour, could those healers be women? I hear Southern Water Tribe girls are the most beautiful in the world.”

 

“Speaking as a biased man, I’m inclined to agree.” Bumi said. “I’ll ask my cousins to find some of the best looking healers they know. Real Southern beauties. You can sip a mulled ale as they work.”

 

“Southern beauties…” Koga repeated wistfully. “Hot water and warm ale...sounds lovely. Could you…” His voice cracked. “Could you do me another favour?”

 

Bumi nodded. “Of course, Koga. Anything.”

 

“How does the ale taste? The one they brew in the South Pole?”

 

“Well…” Bumi said. “To really make you understand that I’d have to explain how they brew it.”

 

“I think we can…spare the time.” Koga snorted, then flinched at his own laughter.

 

“Right.” Bumi said hastily. “You’re right. Let me think…Uncle Sokka said it was an old tradition. One of the oldest of the southern clans, one they’ve honoured for centuries. It starts every autumn once all the summer hunts have ended. Damn near most of the tribe comes together and begins the journey to Whaletail Island. The canoes are packed to the brim. Men, women and children banging on drums and singing the old songs. It take a day and a night and another half a day of steady travel, but they always get there. And that’s when the real work begins.”

 

He remembered Dad’s hand on his shoulder as Uncle Sokka and Mom chattered at the front of the canoe, the steady arm guiding the stroke of his paddle. “You hit the beach...well, most people jump off and swim to shore. The Air Nomads used to greet them as they came ashore, the Air Acolytes do that now. They exchange gifts, the Tribesmen ask permission to make use of the island’s bounty and the Acolytes make them welcome.”

 

“How does it smell?”

 

“Like peaches. Everything smells like peaches. The younger children pick them up from the ground or pluck them from the low branches. The older children join with the adults in cutting down a few of the peach trees. The carpenters trim the logs into staves and the coopers make the staves into casks to replace ones that have gotten too old for use. Then they start the brewing. The hops, the malt, the yeast and the peaches. Once it’s done the waterbenders surround the casks with ice and let it settle for a while.”

 

“What do you do while you wait?”

 

Bumi had to stop himself from licking his lips. “We get ready for the feast. Anyone not brewing or picking was out catching fish. The cookfires start about two hours before sunset and they don’t stop. Swordfish, salmon, whale tongue steak, seal and peach stew. Clams and lobster. The Air Acolytes bring savoury dumplings, steam buns, spiced noodles and every kind of dessert.”

 

Koga’s stomach growled. “Then you feast?”

 

“Then we feast.” Bumi confirmed. “But you’ve never eaten like that before, I can guarantee. The drummers pound, dancers of Water and Air whirl around like they’re the currents of ocean and sky. The singing drowns out everything else. The moon is so bright you barely need the fires to see. And the ale…mug after mug of it as you wash down whatever mouthful you’re on.”

 

“Is it cold?” Koga asked with shining eyes.

 

“You’ve never tasted colder. As much as you can handle. You only stop drinking to dance, the only thing better than the warmth in your belly is the warmth of the girl in your arms as you dance till the sun rises.” Something warm and wet carved a path down the bruises on his cheek. “It’s paradise, Koga.”

 

“I want to see it. Bumi, I want to see it.” Koga buried his head into Bumi’s sleeve.

 

“You will. I’ll take you.”

 

“No.” Koga choked. “You won’t.” His hands fumbled with the front of his shirt and drew it aside. Bumi’s hands clenched into fists as he saw the truth written in the angry bulging of Koga’s stomach. “I felt it when I woke up. I don’t know whether it’s my liver or my spleen that gave out first…but I must have been bleeding for hours.”

 

“I can…I can fix this.” Bumi looked around, his eyes looking at…at what? “Give me a minute. Talk me through it.”

 

“Same old…Bumi…” Koga managed to stretch out one last smile. “…don’t die here. Promise me…promise you won’t…”

 

The last of his breath tickled Bumi’s chin as it passed. His eyes stared into eternity, forever locked on the setting sun past the bars of the cage. Bumi’s fingers felt so light that the breeze could have shaken them. He dragged his failing fingers over Koga’s forehead, pulling his eyes closed. He might have been sleeping, his smile just reflecting a happy dream of a warm autumn night under a clear southern sky, laying in the arms of a pretty girl whose lips tasted of peaches.

 

“Is he dead?” Sheng’s nervous whimper nearly sent him into a rage. He choked on his sudden anger as Sheng whined. “No…no, no. He can’t be dead. They want their vengeance. Can’t be dead. Might not have enough meat.”

 

“Sheng.” Bumi bit back a scream. “You said you had sons. Did you ever make them promise you? Promise to be good, to help their mother, to work hard?”

 

Sheng looked at him, a glimpse of sanity returning to his eyes. “Yes. Once. Long ago.”

 

“I made my father a promise too.” Bumi said. “I promised him I would never take a life. And…I haven’t, technically. But I got Hahn killed. I tricked Shan Yu into climbing to his death. And now…Koga…” He touched his face with a trembling hand. “So…I’ve already failed my father.”

 

His hand suddenly seized Koga’s throat in an iron grip, strong fingers leaving angry red marks on the still cooling flesh. “That promise can’t get any more broken.”

 

“What are you doing?” Sheng hissed. “He’s already dead!”

 

“Dead? Dead!” Bumi suddenly roared. _“Dead!_ Guards! Help! Murder!” He dragged Koga closer to Sheng’s cage and laid him against the bars. “Murder!”

 

The guards ran from everywhere, the biggest of the hunters leading them. As broad as two men and tall as a tree, he wore a sash decorated with golden rings beneath his furs, and carried an axe with iron head across his back. When he saw Koga’s still form he howled out a primal scream.

 

“Him!” Bumi shouted, his finger pointed straight at Sheng. “He murdered him! Strangled him!” He wrapped his own fingers around his throat to demonstrate. “Murderer!”

 

“No!” Sheng squealed. He shouted something incomprehensible, some trade language that Bumi didn’t recognise. Either these weren’t the cannibals who spoke it or they were too angry to listen. The guards wrenched open his cage and dragged him out. Already mad, Sheng’s scream rose to piercing heights, words turning to hysterical shrieks as he was dragged deeper into the forest toward the main camp. The others rushed inside Bumi’s cage to retrieve Koga’s body, ignoring him completely as they hoisted the corpse aloft and joined in the stampede after Sheng.

 

Leaving Bumi with two guards.

 

The rage and the grief of his act had been very real, yet Bumi found himself very calm as he sat cross legged upon the ground. He had barely even known what he was doing. A half formulated, half considered plan was barely a plan at all. Yet it had felt as natural as a prank on the Acolyte Initiates, as easy as plotting an escape from one of Aunt Toph’s patrolmen…as natural as leading Shan Yu to his death.

 

“I will not die here, Koga.”

 

The sunset painted the snow on the mountains with violent tinctures of gold and scarlet, the cold wind whistling from peaks to valley. The breeze carried with it the powder of fresh fallen snow, the heady scent of pine needles and the pungent odour of sap.

 

Two guards.

 

_Numbers don’t count. Only the fighter counts. Only one element counts in a fight, boy. The element of surprise! Now pick those arms up again, Recruit!_

Two busted legs.

 

_You have it in you to be great, Bumi. To forge a legend for the ages._

 

A hundred miles between him and anyone who could help.

 

_The bending doesn’t matter, my son. My water is useless without tactics to guide my blows. Trust in your mind, it will keep you going long after every advantage is stripped from you._

 

Certain death either way.

 

_Now get up, son. And be brave._

 

He opened his eyes. “I will not die here.”

 

Outside the cage, the guards gave him a questioning look, then shrugged and stared back at the campfire. In the forest beyond, Bumi could hear the sound of screaming.

 

Then he started to scream.

 

“Oh help! Help me! Oh, my heart! Help me!”

 

He flopped onto the ground, wailing and clutching his chest. “Please! The pain!”

 

The guards rushed from the fire, one shouting at the other as he fumbled to unbar the cage. They stood over Bumi, frantically chattering between each other as they knelt to get a look at him. With one prisoner already dead there would be horrendous punishments if they failed to keep another one alive.

 

At least, that had been Bumi’s best guess when he made his gamble to get them within arm’s reach.

 

Uncle Sokka had taught him the tactic. Pimniq’s training gave him the skill. But the speed with which he snatched the bone knife from the first guard’s waistband and slammed it into his throat was all him. The second one gave a cry of alarm as he tried to twist away. Bumi already had his arm locked around the back of his neck. With a flick of his hips he twisted him onto his back, arm snaking in under his chin and catching his neck in a chokehold. The guard twisted like an eel, pinwheeling his legs to try and get loose. Bumi hooked in his legs and increased the pressure on either side of his neck.

 

The guard briefly increased his struggle as his supply of oxygen was completely cut. But, more importantly, so was the supply of blood from his heart to his brain. Half a minute of struggle later and the kicking ceased.

 

_Five and Six. I’m sorry, Dad._

 

He balled his hands into fists to stop the trembling.

 

_I will not die here._

The pain as he moved along the rough jungle track was excruciating. Each leg screamed its complaint in turn as he limped forward, a rough-hewn spear serving as a walking stick. Every trip and stumble had his teeth sink deeper into his lip to prevent a scream escaping his throat. His plan faded to the back of his mind as instinct drove him onward, onward to some vague goal, an illusion of something that he half-remembered would aid in his escape.

 

_“You do not have to remain calm, but you must learn to function under increasing pressure.” Machiko called as the platoon continued to tread water in the icy river. “The enemy will never permit you a warm up round. Nature will not give you five minutes to catch your breath. Which gives out first? The body or the mind?”_

 

“The mind, Sergeant.” Bumi grunted. He regained his footing and hoisted himself over a fallen tree. His arms worked fine and he took advantage of the low hanging vines as handholds along the way.

 

_“Why the mind?”_

 

“The mind hates pain. It will do anything to escape pain. The mind runs out of will before the body runs out of strength.”

 

_“Precisely. This is why we train the mind but brutalise the body. You must have total faith that there are yet untapped reserves of strength within you, even at the point of complete exhaustion. Why is fear worse than despair?”_

“Trick question, Sergeant. Despair is worse than fear.”

 

_“Why?”_

 

“The purpose of fear is to find a way to win a fight or successfully flee one. Despair believes that neither is possible. The squirrel-rabbit never feels despair. It continues to flee even when mortally wounded.”

 

_“Yet man does feel despair, and man is a higher being than a squirrel-rabbit. A thinking man weighs the evidence on instinct. How then to avoid despair?”_

A branch cracked under his feet.

 

_“Well, Bumi? Can you think of the answer?”_

“I…I can’t think while I’m trying to stay afloat, Sergeant.”

 

_“Good. Remember that. If thought becomes your enemy then you must fight against thinking and stifle it with quick and violent action.”_

 

The angered howls behind him foretold the pursuit to follow. Bumi could hear it now. The river he’d been carried across earlier, flowing high in its banks with autumn rain. He’d almost forgotten it was his destination. Just that his survival lay in that direction, so that was where he had to go. Clever Bumi was making the plans, Stubborn Bumi just had to follow them. Knowing the details wasn’t necessary, if anything they’d just get in the way. Confronting the details would mean acknowledging the rapids, the currents, and the length of time he’d need to stay afloat in wild waters with limited use of his legs. However, the water was where his only advantages lay, so the water was where he was going without further debate. Thus saving both time and brain power as he stumped his way toward the roar of the water.

 

“Well…” Bumi paused as he cleared the treeline. “That’s unlucky.”

 

“In hindsight,” he announced to no one in particular. “I really should have considered the possibility that I’d come out at a waterfall. We did climb for a while after the crossing.”

 

Neither Sergeant Machiko nor Uncle Sokka chose that moment to add a comment to his pain-addled brain. The sight and the smell of fresh, fast flowing water was invigorating. His legs longed for a rest, but even a cessation of movement was enough to bring blessed relief from the worst of the pain and the shades of family that his mind conjured to aid him.

 

“So. If I go upstream they’ll catch me and eat me.”

 

He walked to the edge.

 

“If I go back they’ll catch me and eat me.”

 

He centred himself low and breathed deep.

 

“If I stay here they’ll catch me and eat me.”

 

The crashing of feet through the underbrush was almost deafening.

 

“To whatever noble spirit dwells within this river, know me for my mother’s son, a child of Water.” His eyes squeezed shut. “Carry me to the sea.”

 

The water below was white and foaming, jagged rocks rising in twisted spires and uneven patterns. With any luck he’d be dead before he hit the water.

 

The view was perfect, an unbroken line of sight to the beach so many miles away. The wind in his face was fresh and gusting. The agonies of his body seemed to blow away along with the angry buzz of the cannibals as they came out of the trees. The moon was just beginning to rise.

 

“Look, Tenzin. I can fly.”

 

But he didn’t. He fell like a stone into the foaming cauldron. A bone tipped arrow buried between his shoulder blades.

 

The water felt different from the last time he almost drowned. Pinned underneath a sinking mast he had felt trapped, enclosed, strangled by merciless darkness. This time the river welcomed him as though he was an old friend, the soft light of the waxing moon caressing his face as the currents whipped him between the rocks.

 

Clever Bumi, always alert, considered it more than passing strange that he should bounce off so few rocks as the flow carried him downstream. Stubborn Bumi was too relaxed to care.

 

 _Is this what I was afraid of?_ _It doesn’t seem right to dread it. Koga…my friends…I’ll see you all soon…_

 

He barely felt the hard tug of the current soften to gentle fingers as the river eased its pace. He did feel the scratches on his arms as he drifted against a tree. For a moment he stayed in place, the current not strong enough to push him under or past the fallen log. His eyesight was hazy, but it seemed that the log itself was linked in with several more, all the way back to shore.

“Platypus-beaver dam?” He wondered aloud.

 

For a second he was tempted to release, to push off the trees and continue his drift. But…maybe it wasn’t right to just ignore something like this. To give up and die would be cheating. Like quitting a race while he still had his breath.

 

“Alright.” His hands found the log. Hand over hand, he dragged himself toward the bank. It seemed slightly ridiculous to go to so much effort when he’d just bleed to death from the wound in his back when he got there. Maybe that was a problem for later.

 

Getting to the end of the logs was hard. Dragging himself out of the water was on the ‘just doable’ side of impossible. He immediately had weight again, and with weight came pain. Pain in his legs, hips, lower back, ribs, shoulders, head…it was probably shorter to list the places where he didn’t feel pain. Which were three of the fingers on his left hand. So…probably nerve damage somewhere in that hand.

 

The sigh from his lungs turned into a giggle halfway up. A silly, high pitched noise that was entirely inappropriate for the situation at hand.

 

“What’s so funny?” A voice interrupted his laughter.

 

“All of it.” He managed to spit out the words past half a lungful of water. “Surviving a battle at sea only to be captured by cannibals. Escaping the cannibals only to fall into a waterfall. Surviving the waterfall only to mostly drown in a river. Saved from drowning by some random logs stretched across a river. And climbing out of a river only to die on the bank.”

 

“Most of that is quite hilarious.” The voice replied agreeably.

 

“Oh, and I’ve been hallucinating voices in my head for the last half hour.” His laughter was hurting his ribs. “That’s new.”

 

“Disconcerting, at first.” The voice dipped in sympathy. “However on the whole I’ve found such apparitions to be the more positive aspects of our psyche stepping in to help us correct our behaviour.”

 

Bumi took a moment to digest the words. “You’re very wise for a hallucination.”

 

“You’re quite welcome.” The voice leaned over him. Could a voice really do that? The voice’s eyes briefly reflected the light of a fire that came to life in its hands. Bumi found himself staring into golden irises alight with curiosity. “You’re an odd piece of driftwood, but I can’t fault your manners.”

 

“Am I dying?” Bumi wondered.

 

“I couldn’t say. I’ve thought I was dying several times.” It was a woman’s voice, Bumi realised. Sharp and cultured, though he couldn’t place the accent. “But I’m not dead, so who can say if my thoughts on the matter were accurate?”

 

“I’ve gone mad.” Bumi concluded. “Mad from the cold.”

 

“Ah, you poor thing.” The woman clucked. “Here, let me warm you up. Now, on the subject of madness, I could perhaps offer some more tangible advice…” The fire in her fingers increased in heat, warming Bumi’s blood through his soaking clothes and skin. “After all, I’ve been mad for several decades.”

 

Bumi wasn’t sure why he felt so shocked when the flames turned from orange to blue. There was probably a reason. A very good reason. An excellent reason that he no doubt felt very strongly about.

 

But it didn’t seem too important, so he let his head flop back on the earth and closed his eyes as the blue fire chased away the chill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given that of all his adventures, it was the encounter with cannibals that seemed to be Bumi's greatest fear in the Fog of Lost Souls, I think it's safe to say that it was one of the more defining moments of his life.
> 
> Another thing from the show I drew on for this chapter was Bumi's remark that he never really felt like part of the Air Nation. Part of me always wondered if that was because he was a professional career soldier and was damn good at it, fighting and killing and commanding soldiers who fought and killed on his orders, thus putting a wedge between him and his Air Nomad heritage.


	6. The Foundations, Part Three: The Mad Hermit of the Spire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bumi should have died in a cold river, far from home. But just how fortunate was he to be fished out by a stranger who can conjure blue fire?

_“What destiny follows the children of the Avatar? An idle question asked by an idle student, yet one which has cost me no small number of sleepless nights in fruitless study of musky scrolls. The Avatar is chosen by destiny, should it follow their bloodline? Fire Lord Zuko was of Roku’s line and unquestionably a key figure in ending the Hundred Year’s War. My father was Avatar Korra’s airbending master and my sister Jinora rendered vital service as a diplomat during the restructuring of the Earth Commonwealth. Yet there are other kinds of destiny. My sister Ikki revived the lost art of the Air Dance. My brother Rohan was present to prevent a major grav-train accident, a grav train that happened to be carrying the Fire Nation Crown Princess at the time. My own work has focused far more on books and scrolls than on saving the world. Little destinies, but not unimportant. Sometimes, we descendants of the Avatar are simply in the right place at the right time.” Meelo, Master of the Southern Temple. **‘A Study of Destiny’.**_

 

**_The Mad Hermit of the Spire_ **

 

In rare moment of lucidity, Bumi attempted to catalog the significant events of his life from major to minor. There were a few events, more than a few if he thought about, where his behaviour might have strayed on the side of reprehensible. These ranged from the relatively minor (tying knots in Kya’s hair, telling Tenzin that the Magic Lemur wasn’t real) to the genuinely shameful (lying to Mom about drinking with Kya, telling Tenzin that the Evil Ghost Bison was going to eat him in his sleep). These acts, now that he had time to think about them, really did merit some kind of…reckoning. Punishment which, all things considered, he had completely evaded until now.

 

So if the cosmic retribution was all stacking up to the level of pain that he was currently experiencing, it would be nice to figure out if he actually deserved what was coming to him. A scientific experiment of sorts.

 

 _“If you aren’t learning something new with every experience, you’re just wasting valuable time.”_ Uncle Sokka had once told him. Or at least, that was what Bumi remembered him saying. It was hard to tell what was actual memory and what was a hallucination. Especially hard since Blue Fire Voice Person had fed him that mix of sour berries a few minutes ago. Or hours ago. It was very hard to distinguish between the two.

 

“Where are we going?” Was what he meant to ask. It came out of his mouth sounding more like: “Swhare ee gai?”

 

“Yes.” Blue Fire Voice Person agreed as she checked the bridle on the goat-mule, then double checked the fastening’s keeping Bumi slung over the beast’s back. “It is a lovely day indeed.”

 

“Do har voo?”

 

“Can the world truly be one together? Cosmos without hating? I don’t know. I don’t think it’s possible, really.”

 

“Dot ish habbenenen?”

 

“No, I don’t much care for mixing sweet with sour in my noodles.”

 

The effort of forcing out the words left him dizzy and faint. His continued to bounce against the goat-mule’s furry hide, the musky smell and warmth of the animal mixing with the berries and easing him into a deep darkness that held no pain.

 

He woke only twice. Once for a crack of thunder that rang so loud as to nearly split his eardrums. A second time as a wave of bitter cold enveloped his body, an icy blanket that made him thrash with terror before something hard smacked him behind the ear. It didn’t properly knock him out, but everything fell behind a veil that was mercifully free of sensation. He was vaguely aware of the Blue Fire Person muttering to herself, the brief warmth of fire blasts as she melted away the snow drift that had fallen on them, her tuneless whistle that called the goat-mule forward.

 

It continued for an age, the endless, bitter cold only brief alleviated by her fire. Occasionally she would ramble meaningless words in his ear and lift his head to pour water into his mouth. Bumi was certain she was speaking softer each time as the cold became less cold, the heat became less warm and the stink of the goat-mule seemed far less oppressive to his nostrils.

 

At those times, when all began to fade into grey, the woman would seize his chin, slap his face and breathe hot air into his mouth. It increased sensation, and with it the pain, but Bumi was certain that he didn’t mind. He began to tell the time by the feel of rough gloves against his face and a mouth that burned too warm scorching his skin for a few brief seconds. By his count they were at well over a dozen when the harsh wind vanished entirely. Slim arms with the strength of steel cables lifted him from the back of the goat-mule and laid him upon a bed of hides.

 

His cold and soaking clothes, his ragged Marine dungarees, were quickly stripped off him. He lay, naked and stupefied, in front of a roaring fire that he had neither seen built nor lit. A fur was draped over him, though more for modesty than heat. All the heat was in the fire, so bright and merry. The cold could not fight a blaze so smug and sure of itself.

 

Unfortunately, when the cold left, the pain came back. Bumi bit his lip for a while, but soon enough he was whimpering at the growing discomfort in his legs and back. Blue Fire Person didn’t take long to notice.

 

She returned in flutter of robes, crouching down to examine his eyes and listen to his breathing. “Tell me, boy. How bad is the pain? On a scale of one to ten?”

 

“It hurts,” was his only answer.

 

“Hmm. Not precise, but workable.” The woman disappeared to the far side of the cave. The clink of bottles and the rough grind of mortar on pestle was all Bumi could make out. Soon enough she was back, a steaming concoction that reeked of rotten fruit and saltpeter.

 

“You’ll want to drink this.” She frowned as Bumi sealed his mouth and shook his head. “Come, boy, I thought you had sterner stuff than a child refusing his medicine.”

 

“It smells like poison.” Bumi slurred.

 

The woman slapped her forehead. “Boy, why would I waste good poison when I could just as easily choke the life from you as I could from a lemur with a bad wing?”

 

Her fingers shot out and gripped his nose in a cruel vice. He opened his mouth to protest and found himself helpless as the potion began to pour down his throat. “Furthermore, if I was poisoning anyone I wouldn’t use something that my target hates drinking. Sweet tea, probably. Or ginger to mask a bitter poison.”

 

Finally it was done, her hand leaving his face as he spluttered and swallowed the last of the not-poison. The woman leaned back, her not-unkind eyes giving him a not-quite-interested once over. “Now, boy, you’ll have a few minutes before that little mixture knocks you out so hard you might land in the spirit world. You’ve got an open wound right between your shoulder blades. I don’t know how deep that tip went, but odds are it went far too close to that spinal cord and could be nudging against your heart for all I know.”

 

Bumi was sure he should be far more panicked about that scenario, but all he could say was a meek: “Oh.”

 

“In addition you’ve got a nice little set of broken ribs, a bruised coccyx, a sprained ankle on one foot, a simple fracture that’s escalated to a compound break, a great deal of blood loss and a concussion that I’ve yet to determine the seriousness of. To be honest I’ve got so much work to do on you that I might as well toss you back in the river, but now that I’ve got you up here I absolutely refuse to make a second trip back down. Do you understand?”

 

Bumi took a second to consider his answer. “No.”

 

“No matter.” The woman resumed her work. “Get to sleep, boy. This will go a lot easier for both of us if you’re asleep.”

 

“Not boy…” Bumi murmured.

 

“What?”

 

“Bumi…my name is Bumi…”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

It was like being born all over again.

 

Not that Bumi could remember much of his original birth to weigh up against the original experience. But the general concept was surely the same. Floating in an eternal vat of viscuous slime that caressed you with tender tendrils. Then a tunnel of pressure and limitless pain that threatened to snatch away the very life it was trying to bring forth in a trial of fire and blood. And finally light and warmth and the cooing of loving voices to welcome and comfort after such an ordeal.

 

“Good. You’re finally awake.”

 

At least there was everything but that last part.

 

“So, boy, what took you so long?”

 

In fact, without that comfort it was far less like birth and more like a drowning man flopping onto the shore only to be told by a passing walker how idiotic he was to swim so far out in the first place.

 

“Where am I?” His first attempt to sit up was greeted rudely, first by the warning aches of impending pain, then by a cord binding him to the bed.

 

“You’re in a cave.” The woman said. “A very nice cave. Spacious in all the right places and quite cosy in a few others. A separate cave next door for the useless beast that isn’t you. But, still a cave.”

 

“How long have I been here?” Bumi stared at the rope. “And why am I tied down?”

 

“You are tied down to prevent you from ruining the casts on your legs or disrupting the healing process of your broken ribs. Something you very nearly managed several times without even waking up.” The woman said. Given her scowl, Bumi guessed the last part was a particular affront to her. “I thought I was well versed in herb-lore, but you defy all expectations when it comes to nightshade sleeping draught. As for long you’ve been here…”

 

She laid a hand across his forehead. “Long enough for the first winds of winter to come down from the Spire. Long enough for the infection in your wounds to clear and your fever to subside. Long enough for me to reset your bones properly. Long enough for me to learn the names of your companions from how often you cry them out in your sleep. And long enough to consume my entire stock of honey.”

 

Bumi could still taste faint sweetness on his lips. “You fed me honey to keep me alive?”

 

“A milk, honey and herb mixture of my own invention.” The woman replied. She smiled suddenly. “I’m quite pleased it worked as well as it did. Never had a chance to test it before.”

 

The smile disappeared as suddenly as it came. She gave him a scowl. “However, it’s probably been about a three week ordeal keeping you alive and I got little to no sleep for most of it. The broth is almost ready. Do you think you can feed yourself?”

 

Bumi gave a dumb nod. The woman seemed prone to shifts of mood and he didn’t want to bring on another one by disagreeing with her. She busied herself by the fire, spooning two large bowls of steaming broth out of a cast iron pot, then freeing his arms so he could eat. His first attempt to get a spoonful into his mouth was a dismal failure, twitching fingers failing to get the spoon even halfway before it slipped to the floor. The woman gave a shake of her head. “Of course. Three weeks on milk and honey and you’re as frail as a new-born. Should have guessed that much. Here, let me.”

 

The first mouthful was hot and delicious, some kind of chicken strongly flavoured with salt and rich fire-pepper and filled with onion and cabbage. He greedily drank, his stomach aching slightly as it gradually began to fill.

 

“Who-who are you?” Bumi saw one neatly sculpted eyebrow rise and realised that he had dribbled soup down his chest. The woman patiently wiped the mess away, then spooned more of the delicious broth into his eager mouth.

 

“Just another stranger wandering the Foundations playing ‘dodge the cannibal’.” Her low contralto reassured him. “Much like yourself, I would imagine.”

 

“I’m a…United Forces Marine. Private Bumi off the _Waverider_. We were ambushed by a pirate fleet commanded by…”

 

The woman put a finger to his lips. “Let me stop you right there. Maybe three words in that entire sentence made sense to me. I don’t care what your name is, I don’t pay any attention to what pirates get up to, and I’ve never even been to the United Republic. I’ve spent the last nine months doing very little else but wander around these mountains waiting for something exciting to happen.”

 

“Why?”

 

She shrugged. “Why not? I am _Tā Liúlàng Hàn_. She Who Wanders. It makes very little difference to me where I wander or what I do once I arrive. The wind blows me one way, the spirits guide me the other.”

 

“A bit melodramatic.” Bumi said. “The wind doesn’t really blow anyone anywhere.”

 

“It does when you sail your boat into a hurricane.” Liúlàng said. “But that’s neither here nor there. I’ve sailed to the North and walked to the South. I’ve caught the fast train to Omashu and taken the slow lizard to Ba Sing Se. And now I’m here. Lucky for you.”

 

Bumi licked the spoon clean of the last of the broth. “Why were you there? Waiting by the side of that river?”

 

“Well, I ran into a woods witch about a year ago during one of my meanders about the Eastern Isles.” Liúlàng began to sip her own broth. “I mentioned that I was thinking of taking up fishing as a hobby. She said that the most interesting fish I would ever find could be caught on a white knife buried in the heart of the world. Took me two months to puzzle out that particular riddle, another month of travelling, and nine months sitting by the side of that blasted river before you finally washed up.”

 

Bumi digested the words along with the broth. “So…now that you’ve caught me, what do you do with me?”

 

“Well normally one would eat the fish that one catches.” Liúlàng said, almost to herself. “But I despise the taste of underfed Water Tribe. So for now I’ll have to settle for fattening you up.”

 

She must have caught the look on his face, a rather nasty laugh bubbling over smooth lips. “Oh don’t wet yourself yet, boy. I have enough supplies in stock to feed four for a year, let alone two for a winter. The snows have fallen on mountain and vale, but by the time you’re fat enough to eat it’ll be spring again, and I can catch myself a tastier fish.”

 

She resettled him on the bed. “For now, sleep. For now, you are a safe and welcomed guest. I’ll decide later on what use you’ll serve for me.”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

There was no use trying to count the days. They were deep in the cave system where no natural light could reach. Instead, Bumi counted the time by his sleep patterns. He wasn’t sure how long he was sleeping for, his wounds had taken their toll and his body was sleeping longer to compensate. He split the difference as best he could.

 

Liúlàng was still asleep the first two times he woke up. She would wake perhaps an hour after he did, seemingly displeased with herself for that particular fact. Each day she would put on three pots of broth, help him eat and then feed herself. They never engaged in more than a handful of idle conversations. Bumi had questions he wanted to ask, but in his weakened state they seemed more foolish than wise. In light of recent events he was perhaps a little more predisposed to wisdom than he had been in the past.

 

On the third day he was finally capable of feeding himself, though he spilled perhaps half a bowl the first two times. On the fifth, enough dexterity had returned to his fingers for him to help Liúlàng cut up the roots for the broth. And on the seventh she tossed him a broom.

 

“I wish to lay hides on the floor to help insulate the cave. To do that, all this dirt must be swept away.” She said shortly. “Time you earned your food.”

 

Bumi looked at the broom, then back to her. “I can barely stand.”

 

“And you think lying idle will improve that?” Liúlàng sniffed. “Up, boy. Sweep.”

 

Further argument seemed likely only to provoke her. Wrapping his fingers around the broom, Bumi forced his legs to swing over the edge of the makeshift bed and plant firm on the ground. With the broom taking most of the weight, he forced himself upwards on legs that felt like spindles. He took one step. Then a second. Then reached out the broom to begin sweeping and fell flat on his face.

 

Boots clicked on the rock behind him. For a moment Bumi expected a fire blast in the back of the head. Instead he heard a suddenly cheery Liúlàng speak as she hauled him back to the bed. “Good effort. We’ll try again after lunch.”

 

“Again?” Bumi couldn’t keep the dismay from his voice.

 

“Again.”

 

After lunch, Bumi prepared himself properly. He breathed. He stretched his legs as best he could. Wiggled his toes. Tensed his muscles to get the blood flowing.

 

He took two steps and fell on his face.

 

“Again?”

 

“Again.”

 

He made it three paces after dinner.

 

“Again?”

 

“Again.”

 

Four paces after breakfast.

 

“Again.”

 

Three paces after lunch.

 

“Again.”

 

Six and a half after dinner.

 

“Again.”

 

“Again.”

 

“Again!”

 

_“Again!”_

 

“I can’t…I can’t do it!” Bumi’s face was red and his breathing ragged from his latest effort. “Five days I’ve been trying to sweep the floor and nothing to show for it but bruises!”

 

“Is that what you think?” Liúlàng wasn’t even looking at him.

 

“Why bother saving me just to torture me?”

 

That made her pause. “You wound me, boy. If I was to torture you I would use far more painful methods than simply making you sweep.”

 

“Why even make me sweep? You can’t possibly have enough hides to cover the whole floor!”

 

Finally, Liúlàng stood up. Making her way over to him, she picked up the broom. “Perhaps I have given you the wrong impression, boy. I am a woman for whom nothing is insignificant, nothing lacking value of some kind. The food you eat, the bed you lay on, the furs you wear. They are all mine, earnt with sweat, blood and tears to haul them halfway up the side of this bloody mountain. Do you think I give you their use out of the kindness of my heart?”

 

Bumi couldn’t meet her gaze. “No.”

 

“No,” she said. “Now, against my better judgement, I rather like you, boy. One does not always get a fish with such a good story. But stories aren’t useful to me. And I cannot justify keeping you unless you are useful. Do you understand?”

 

Bumi said nothing. Instead he reached out a hand, took the broom and began forcing his way up. The woman said nothing. But he caught the barest glimpse of a smile as she returned to her side of the cave.

 

**_The Odd Pair in the Cave_ **

 

The bristles of the broom swept another cloud of dirt toward the mouth of the cave. Even wrapped in his furs, Bumi shivered at the wind that found its way passed the wood and hide door Liulang used to keep out the worst of the cold.

 

“Lunch is ready, boy!”

 

Speak of the Face-Stealer and she appeared.

 

“I’ll be done in a minute,” he called back down into the main cave. No doubt she’d inspect his work, and she’d only gotten more critical since his legs became stronger.

 

The going had only been slightly torturous for the second week of work. Once he’d been able to perform a passable job of sweeping the main cave she’d set him to hanging wall decorations from spikes which he needed to hammer into the rock. Unsatisfied with his first efforts, she’d had him drag around a heavy rock from wall to wall, step up and down on the bloody thing, hammering in the spikes with a heavy mallet until he was soaked through with sweat.

 

In the third week she’d taken to questioning him whilst he swept, hammered and stepped. Various topics were broached at seemingly random order. Where he’d received his combat training and what form it had taken, what was his preferred fighting style, how many times he’d gotten into fights that he knew he couldn’t win. And those were the most logical of her questions. She’d asked about his favourite foods, what he liked to do for amusement, whether he had a girl back home waiting for him. Questions that might have sounded like idle conversation if he didn’t think that Liúlàng would have rather chewed off her own fingers than engage in anything of the kind.

 

So he answered her questions, swept the floor, hammered home the spikes and stepped upon the rock until his muscles ached. It was a dull existence, but considering the potential alternatives he was grateful to have it at all. Liúlàng had not produced blue fire since the night on the river bank, and he didn’t care to ask her to do it again. Sometimes he wondered if he’d even seen blue fire at all.

 

Then he caught a glimpse of her yellow eyes frowning over some petty problem and had to suppress a shudder.

 

He shuffled back into the main cave to find a sturdy midday meal waiting. Smoked fish and sweet potato, liberally salted and seasoned. She’d prepared for winter, that much was obvious. Nearly four weeks in and the spice rack did not appear to even have a dent in it. There were even some fruit preserves brought out.

 

“What’s the occasion?” He nodded toward the treat.

 

“A celebration, of sorts.” Liúlàng spoke past a mouthful of fish. “I have decided that you are useful after all.”

 

“That’s…good news?” Bumi reached for his chopsticks. “You have a strange definition of useful.”

 

“By whose standards?”

 

“The standards of anyone who doesn’t like sweeping their own floors I suppose.”

 

Liúlàng gave a contemptuous flick of her chopsticks. “You’re a smart boy,” she said. “Do you think I really had you sweeping floors and hanging hides for my own amusement?”

 

Bumi shrugged. “I don’t know you well enough to comment on your sense of humour.”

 

“Well, here’s something about me for free: It’s terrible. So were your legs when I found you. I can stitch together torn flesh, burn the infection out of a wound, but I can’t heal broken bones or cartilage with a flick of the hand. Such injuries can take a year to heal without resources. I needed to know if your lack of mobility was one that could be resolved with exercise or if you were a lame ostrich horse.”

 

“A…beloved lame ostrich horse? A favoured pet to be cared for in his infirmity?”

 

“A useless burden that I would be loathe to saddle myself with.”

 

The fish suddenly tasted remarkably like ash. “Oh.”

 

“Well, no further need to dwell on that,” she said. Good cheer had returned to her voice. “I’ve seen that you’re still functional, and your strength is returning. You will no longer sweep the floor.”

 

“Whatever shall I do to pass the time?” He returned.

 

“I’ve thought of that already.” Liúlàng climbed to her feet and made her way to her side of the cave. “Your current recovery not withstanding, I estimate that your swordsmanship would not trouble a half-trained pygmie from the Deep West.”

 

She returned with two crudely carved wooden swords. “I’ve been working on these for a few weeks to get the balance right.” She threw one to him. “Come at me with any attack you like. I wish to see the extent of your training.”

 

Bumi eyed the sword. “You want me to attack you?”

 

“Bright lad.” Liúlàng shrugged off her heavy furs. “Come. I’ve been needing a good sweat. Too much good food in a warm cave is absolute murder…”

 

Bumi lunged as she talked, the tip of his wooden sword sailing through the air…

 

…joined shortly by him as Liúlàng simply sidestepped his thrust and tripped him up.

 

“…on the waistline.” She finished. “I’m sorry, was that your first attempt? Disappointed with the footwork, I must say.”

 

Bumi scrambled to his feet, unexpectedly embarrassed. “I was trying to get the element of surprise.”

 

“Trying, yes.” She agreed. “That much we can agree on. Do I look like someone who’d fall for cheap tricks?”

 

Bumi didn’t answer.

 

“That’s what I thought. Despite your best efforts to convince me otherwise, I _know_ you are smarter than that.” She pointed her sword at his feet. “Set your stance this time.”

 

He came at her from a low stance, swinging up at her left hip. Sergeant Machiko had always favoured that strike as being extremely awkward to defend against. Liúlàng batted it aside with casual dismissal and rapped him across the knuckles. “Don’t launch from the shoulder, it’s as good as painting me a picture of where you’re going to strike. Again.”

 

Bumi cut overhead in a downwards strike. Her fingers grabbed his wrist, a quick flick of her hips and he was lying flat on his back.

 

“Again. Never lift your centre of gravity that high.”

 

He struck at her legs. She jumped over the blade and tapped him on the head.

 

“Again.”

 

He thrust at her midsection and had his blade twisted out of his grip by her riposte.

 

“Poor grip. Again.”

 

“Poor posture. Again.”

 

“Poor timing. Again.”

 

“Poor everything. Again.”

 

Before even an hour had passed, Bumi was soaked with sweat and sore all over from the blows of the wooden sword. He slumped back against the wall, still holding his sword in a feeble attempt at a guard.

 

“I’ve seen worse.” Liúlàng observed. “Not much worse. But still, You have the basic tenets of swordsmanship, but highly unrefined and with little discipline in regards to form. Your teacher, this ‘Machiko’, was she a swordsman of some renown?”

 

“She was well regarded within the United Forces.”

 

“Not exactly the same thing,” she said. “What duels did she fight? Notorious opponents that she faced and slew in single combat?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“I see. And how often did she train you?”

 

“With sword? She walked us through three classes herself, but there was also spear, staff and unarmed combat in which she…”

 

“I care only about the sword,” Liúlàng said. “Short of firebending, I have come to find the sword to be the purest expression of force. A student who is attempting to master violence should first master the sword. Attempting to become proficient with more than one weapon before you have mastered the first is merely a diversion of efforts, a distraction that takes away from the true goal.”

 

She batted aside his sword. “And three classes is not sufficient for mastery.”

 

“I also trained with Corporal…”

 

“I do not care about sparring partners. Machiko was your master and she did not give you adequate instruction.”

 

Bumi bristled. “She was the finest soldier I ever…”

 

“I have known hundreds of ‘fine soldiers’. ‘Well-trained’, ‘well-disciplined’, churned out from the training camps in dozens of columns.” She turned her back. “Most of them died in one campaign or another, any potential they might have had squandered in a bloody melee.”

 

She glanced back. “You, I’m sure, are a ‘fine soldier’. You march well in a formed body of troops, your uniform is always neatly pressed, your chin freshly shaven, your hair neatly cut. You salute crisply, dodge boring work details and wag your tail eagerly when your favourite commander pats you on the head. Not an ignoble line of work, but disappointing. I expected far more from the Avatar’s son.”

 

Bumi froze. Liúlàng’s smile as he glanced around was unexpectedly terrifying. “How did you…?”

 

“I have eyes. I have ears. I have a brain.” She pointed her sword at him. “Each coming and going of the Avatar is known far and wide. Surely you should know that the names of his children are common knowledge.”

 

“But that doesn’t…”

 

“Bumi is an Earth Kingdom name, yet you have no Earth in you. You come from Republic City. You mentioned Air Temple Island. You cry out the names ‘Kya’, ‘Tenzin’, and ‘Uncle Sokka’ in your sleep,” she rattled off. “Really, I’m surprised that you’re surprised I know.”

 

“But you’ve never brought it up.”

 

“It never came up in conversation,” she said. “Much like the questions you have about me.”

 

Bumi tightened his grip on the wooden sword. “A wise man wouldn’t ask such questions if they hadn’t come up already.”

 

“And here I took you for a foolish boy.” The unstable glint in those yellow eyes had never burned so fiercely. “Perhaps a spark of untested cunning rests within you after all…Son of Aang. But not asking pressing questions isn’t truly wisdom. It is cowardice. And I have no use for a coward.”

 

They hovered there on the edge, a wooden sword resting in Bumi’s fingers whilst sparks danced off the woman’s. Bumi was acutely aware that his next words might be his last if not chosen with care.

 

“Outside of the Fire Sages, only one firebender in recent history has been able to summon blue fire at will.” He stated slowly. “Princess Azula of the Royal Family.”

 

“The Mad Princess Azula.” She corrected. “Be specific.”

 

“The Mad Princess Azula,” he agreed. “But it seems the record will need to be corrected.”

 

“Will it?”

 

“Yes.” Bumi gave a vigorous nod. “Because it seems Liúlàng, She Who Wanders, is also capable of bending blue fire.”

 

The edges of the woman’s mouth quirked upwards. “Keep going.”

 

“And,” Bumi continued with growing confidence. “Whilst the Mad Princess Azula would have plenty of reasons to kill the son of two of her greatest enemies, Liúlàng has no reason at all to kill the son of someone she’s never even met. Not as long as he’s useful to her. Not when that man is the most promising student she’s ever had.”

 

“You think that highly of yourself?”

 

“I thought it better than saying ‘the only student she’s ever had’.”

 

“Ha,” she snorted. “Ha. Hahaha! _Ahahahahahahaha!_ ”

 

The sparks faded as she descended into giggling. “Well, you’re not boring, Bumi. Very well. Liúlàng shall train you and get to enjoy beating you with a stick. Does that sound like an acceptable compromise?”

 

Bumi resumed his guard. “It does.”

 

“Be warned, Bumi,” she said. “You have chosen a harder path than death. If you wish to be trained then train you I shall. You shall begin your training before breakfast and not end it until long after your supper. I shall beat you black and blue and when you can no longer lift that blade then I shall train your mind in its place. You shall call me master. Show attentiveness and I shall give knowledge. Show defiance and I will give a beating. Show disobedience and I shall kill you. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, master.”

 

“Then let us begin. First, lower your stance until you feel your heels anchored to the roots of the earth. Hold there and balance where the fire in your muscles is deepest, then taking your breath you must…”

 

**-TLoB-**

The next thrust might have taken Bumi’s eye out, wood or no wood. He sidestepped and dropped low, but the strike of his sword was not meant to touch flesh. It instead forced his master to backpedal toward uneven ground where her agility was hampered. Bumi’s feet remained firmly planted on the bare, flat rock where his own master’s firebending had scorched away the snow.

 

The wind whistled across the top of the plateau, but the mask covering Bumi’s lower face and ears allowed him to ignore it. His stance was far too stable for the wind to displace him. His next two attacks were calculated to drive his master into making her favourite evasions, either a forward flip over his head or rolling twist to his right hand side. He could either stab straight up or deliver a strike off a backspin, both moves guaranteed victory.

 

His master surprised him by standing firm, but he had allowed for that in turn. He pressed her further upwards, where the snow remained deep and thick and a single misstep could twist an ankle.

 

Liúlàng countered by driving back down with a series of over hand cuts, forcing him to backstep to avoid losing a hand. In place of the usual string of criticisms there was only the steaming of her breath as she struggled to match the strength of his attacks. In the cave, where they often fought wearing only light clothing, her mobility could easily outclass him. Wrapped in heavy furs up on the plateau above it, her form was restricted and therefore vulnerable.

 

It was as much a lesson for her as it was for him. And partly why she’d insisted on it. She could abide a weakness in her fighting style even less than she could in his.

 

Bumi saw the opportunity in a missed backswing. He lunged forward, anticipating a point, only to have his sword break in two as she swung hers in a chopping defence. He gazed with disgust at the splinters that remained of his newest training sword.

 

“That’s the third one this week!” He had to yell over the wind.

 

“I can count,” she called back. “Mine’s not much better. Let’s get back inside, this time was a draw.”

 

With the wind picking up it took almost an hour to work their way down the side of the mountain to the cave. They were both soaked with sweat under their furs, Bumi collecting a pot of snow on the way in to melt and warm for washing.

 

“The worst of the snowstorms have ceased.” Liúlàng was shivering despite the blaze of the fire. “The winter was longer than I expected, but I believe we will only have a few more weeks till spring.”

 

“About time.” Bumi placed the pot over the fire. “I didn’t know how much longer I could stand the taste of salted fish.”

 

“Be grateful that it’s salt fish and not fresh goat-mule,” she scowled. “Four more weeks and that’s what it would have come to.”

 

Bumi tossed the remains of his wooden sword onto the fire. “Maybe you should teach me how to shoot one of those bows next. We’d double our chances of taking a deer if we can both shoot.”

 

“What did I say about trying to master more than one weapon at once?”

 

“There’s a difference between learning how to kill a man and learning how to hunt game.”

 

“The purpose for which the skill was learnt is of no matter to the man on the receiving end of the arrow,” she said. “But I understand your point. The winds should be calm enough for us to set up targetry on the lower plateau next week. In the meantime we should discuss what to do about practice swords. I have no more patience for carving wood and no dull steel with which to improvise. Do you think you can handle live steel?”

 

“Isn’t that what you’ve been training me for?”

 

“Don’t get snippy.” She warned. “If I give you a proper sword, can you handle it without taking your own hand off?”

 

“I’ve handled proper swords before.” The words were combative, but Bumi kept his tone deferential.

 

“Really?” Liulang walked toward the back of the cave, where her own personal possessions lay in a large pile that Bumi neither went near nor asked about. “We shall see.”

 

She returned with three bundles. The first had a familiar hilt sticking out of the end. Bumi knew it immediately. “That’s Koga’s cutlass. Where did you get it?”

 

“I ran into some of your unsavoury friends when carrying you into the mountains.” She pulled the blade free. “I take it this is what you trained with?”

 

“Yes. It’s a modified dao pattern sabre which allows for…”

 

“I don’t want the doctrine.” She sniffed, handling the hilt with distaste. “It is displeasing to me. I shall not have a student of mine wield such an ungainly piece of iron.”

 

Bumi bit back on his irritation. “Master, why does it matter what weapon I use?”

 

“A good question,” she said. “One that deserves an answer. This,” she held up his cutlass. “Is a crude weapon for hacking at meat. Are you a butcher? Is a man a chunk of steak to be cut apart so crudely?”

 

She tossed it aside and produced one of her swords. “A man is more than decaying flesh and frail bone. In the light of life there is the spark of imagination. Of music, poetry and painting. Of sculpture and calligraphy. Of the past, present and future. The strength of the arm is nothing compared to the strength of the mind and the mind is but a weak cousin of the heart. _This_ is a weapon for the heart.”

 

Bumi did not even see the blade leave the scabbard, so quick was her draw. He could barely see the blade at all in the dim firelight. It made no sense. Surely the steel should catch the light and…

 

The moment of understanding took his breath away. The sword in the woman’s long fingers was not made of simple steel. Not even the finest smith from the forges of Yu Dao could have matched the simple elegance of the guard, the superb balance of the hilt or the razor sharp finish on each edge. But more than that, only one weapon Bumi had ever been told of had a blade of such deep black that it seemed to swallow whatever light touched it.

 

“That’s…that’s Space Sword.” He blurted out. “That’s…that was lost.”

 

“Thrown away.” Liúlàng corrected him. “Lost implies an accident of some kind. This was willingly and deliberately thrown into the void to save a friend. I know the stories as well as anyone else. This blade once had a master, a cunning warrior and peerless tactician. Early in my travels I came to Black Sword Bay and Fire Lord’s End. I idled by the bay, enjoying the sun and the sand and the fish. I had no intention of treasure hunting, for I knew that anything of value would have been salvaged long ago. Yet in my wanderings I came across the den of a beaver-bear, a particularly vicious beast that had taken several children from the nearby village. My purse was light, so in hope of some kind of reward I ventured inside.”

 

“And by some chance the sword had landed inside when it fell from the sky?”

 

“Eh? No, of course not. Don’t rush me, boy.” She scowled. “As I was saying, I ventured inside the dank cavern, surrounded on all sides by fog and mist.”

 

“But fog and mist are…”

 

“I said don’t rush me! My courage nearly failed me when I saw the beast. A mighty predator, he was, with teeth like razors and a tail that could break bone. His claws were long and I knew from the skeletons on the floor that many a brave man and woman had thought to claim the creature’s hide. More than that, he had no fear of fire and my first blast did little more than irritate him.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“Why I ran, of course. I had no intention of being lunch for an angry bear. I beat a hasty retreat and hoped he wouldn’t follow me out.”

 

“Did he?”

 

“Of course he did. I had half my back opened up by one swipe of his claws. Damn near killed me outright. I barely had the presence of mind to bend a lightning bolt at him before he bit my head off. Passed out from the blood loss and woke up a week later in a nearby village.” She shivered at the memory. “A whole week in the care of those brutish peasants. I’m surprised I didn’t die of infection.”

 

“But the sword?”

 

“Eh? Oh, turns out a villager had found it in the shallows years earlier. It was awarded to the best warrior in the village as a sign of esteem.”

 

“Oh…” Bumi puzzled on it for a moment. “So…they gave you the sword in thanks?”

 

“Actually they gave me a bag of gold. I stole the sword when I snuck out during the night.” Liúlàng shrugged. “I did feel slightly bad about that, actually. But that’s not the point. The point is I had to go through a lot of effort to get this sword. But it was worth it because it’s a really nice sword.”

 

“Then why are you letting me train with it?”

 

“Did I say I was?” Liúlàng snorted. “Not under any circumstances are you to touch this sword. You can use this other one I picked up a few years ago. It’s not a Piandao blade, but it’s served me well.”

 

That night, Bumi went to bed with several nicks on his face and hands in addition to the usual bruises.

 

**-TLoB-**

“What do you think happened to Princess Azula?”

 

Liúlàng didn’t look up from the fire. “I thought we were past stupid questions like that.”

 

“I thought you didn’t mind stupid questions as long as they produced a clever answer?”

 

“I’m beginning to think I should have added insolence to the list of beatable offences when I began your training,” she said.

 

“Beat me harder tomorrow.” Bumi replied.

 

“I was going to do that anyway.” Her eyes softened a little. “Though it _is_ starting to make me sweat a little more. That was a nice counter-riposte earlier. It might have worked if you’d been fighting to kill.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

 

“And you’re avoiding the question.” The challenge in his voice didn’t go away. “So? What do you think happened to her?”

 

Liúlàng stared hard at him, but there was no anger in her gaze. “Are you asking out of idleness or for the sake of wisdom?”

 

“I’m asking for the sake of truth.” It was as honest as he could be.

 

“Truth?” Her chuckle was mirthless. “Truth is flexible and each individual has their own idea of what it is. My…theories on Princess Azula would probably differ from the historical record.”

 

“I heard that her brother offered her a full pardon. Forgiveness for all her crimes and a restoration of all her titles.”

 

“If true, it was a generous offer,” she said. “But a gilded cage is still a cage. And forgiveness cannot take away the memories of pain. Of betrayals and humiliations far too liberally exchanged, no matter the reasons. I doubt Azula wanted comfort or titles. In the end I don’t think she even wanted power.”

 

“What did she want?”

 

“I’ve always asked myself if she really knew?” Liúlàng murmured. “The peasants always rambled on about love and peace and freedom. Love is a lie and peace is an illusion…but freedom sounded like something she might be interested in.”

 

Bumi could remember a time when all he’d wanted was his freedom. He’d just never had the courage to take it. “Where would she have gone?”

 

Her eyes met his. “Everywhere. Nowhere. Wherever people weren’t looking for her. Doing whatever took her fancy. Perhaps she learned how to paint in the Vale of Flowers? Perhaps she studied the sword under Master Si Wan of the Eastern Falls? Perhaps she started back toward home a dozen times with vengeance in her heart only to get distracted by a rainbow over a river?”

 

“Sounds lonely.”

 

“It was. It wasn’t. She would have had to stop at villages for food and shelter from storms. Earn her keep by fighting bandits and escorting travellers. Perhaps there were children who weren’t afraid of the madness in her eyes and simply wanted to see her make the pretty sparks? Or old men and women who didn’t care what her crimes were? There were many damaged people walking the world after the war. Former soldiers, former rebels, what was one more among the crowds?”

 

“Did she ever think of settling down?” It was the question he had feared asking most, but it didn’t trigger the rage he was expecting.

 

“Azula could never settle anywhere. Not her. Never her.” The words were filled with venom. “She had to die. Die forever. Azula would only hurt them. Hurt them all.”

 

“Master?”

 

“She was Mai. That was her name. The woman who stopped in Restful Hearth and decided to stay.” She was almost speaking to herself. “She was planning on going south through the mountains to see the Foundations of the World, but she decided to stay there instead. They were good people. People who wanted a fresh start, like her.”

 

She stared at her hands. “There were weddings every spring. She danced with a farmer who offered her a flower. She could have danced with him forever.”

 

Bumi didn’t make a sound as her eyes clouded. “She was out hunting when the Eaters came in the fall. Streaming out of the mountains to raid and burn and carry off. It was all ash when she returned. The fire was still raging in the houses by the river…she burned the bodies with the blue fire. But she couldn’t burn her way through the pass to give chase. No matter how the fire burned…she couldn’t get through the snow. So she went to the witch.”

 

Her eyes snapped up to greet Bumi’s. “The witch told her that the instrument of her vengeance would wash up on…”

 

“…a white knife plunged into the heart of the world.” He whispered.

 

The silence lay over them. Outside the cave, the winds had increased to another gale, the last fury of winter passing over them.

 

“You have been useful to Liúlàng, Son of the Avatar.” She stood. “You have swept her floor, kept her amused, and learned the lessons she had to teach. As Liúlàng, I thank you for that, and for the good company you provided for the winter.”

 

Her posture straightened, an imperial sneer spreading over her features. “But winter is almost over. As Azula, I would ask more. For saving your life, I ask for your aid. Aid me in bringing fire and vengeance upon the murderers that killed your friend and destroyed my home. Help me, and I swear that once we are done I will lead you through the mountains to Ba Sing Se and see you safely on your way home.”

 

She extended a hand. “I swear on my honour as a Princess of the Royal Family, on the blood of my fathers and mothers before me.”

 

“Come with me and you shall have your retribution.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tossed around the idea of including Azula when I started work on Chapter One. I wrote about three alternate versions of her before I settled on one that was a friendly kind of menacing.


	7. The Foundations, Part Four: Instrument of Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two unlikely partners emerge from a cave. The path to vengeance and the path to home both lead over the mountains.

**_The Foundations: Part Four_ **

 

_“Perhaps the greatest source of tension between my father and uncle was over profession. My uncle was a famed soldier, a hero of many battles. My father always strove for non-aggression until the choice between fighting or dying was forced upon him. Yet I think my father was ungenerous at times. The men and women my uncle fought against were warlords, pirates and slavers, but the act of taking life gave him no joy, no satisfaction. It weighed heavily upon him, a drain upon his spirit for all his days. I think he was doubly glad of becoming an airbender, for he clung to the Air Nomad precepts of non-violence with all the fervour of a convert returning to the teachings of his father.”- **Meelo, Master of the Southern Temple. ‘The Making of Heroes, Book Two.’**_

 

 

**_Instrument of Vengeance_ **

****

The first grass of spring had no sooner popped from the ground than the deer began returning to the upper valleys. Not the large herds, not so soon, but the young bucks itching for new territory and unmatched does. Rather than risk straying closer to the coast and the hunters from the fishing villages, they went north into the deserted high passes, where each click of falling rock and whisper of breath was magnified to a dull roar. Most hunters wouldn’t chase them so far, and those that did would be easy to hear. Such had been their way for years, a calm cycle of nature.

 

The buck that dropped with an arrow in his heart had failed to anticipate that two hunters had been in the valley long before him, lying in wait for hours before he had chosen this particular stretch of grass to graze upon.

 

The remainder of the deer scattered as two figures wrapped in fur coats over buckskin leathers rose from their hide.

 

“Excellent shot, Bumi.” A woman’s voice called approvingly. “If I have to eat one more mouthful of smoked fish I think I’m going to be sick.”

 

The man she addressed pulled back his hood. “I wasn’t the one who decided to eat all the salted venison first.”

 

“But you _were_ the one who split my supply in half,” Azula said. She began climbing down the rocks. “I want the backstrap.”

 

“You said I could have the backstrap if I made a clean shot,” he protested.

 

“No, I said _‘imagine how that backstrap will taste if the first shot kills him’_. Never promised anything.”

 

“Hold on. Who made the kill?”

 

“My bow. My training. My knowledge of the local game habits!” She shouted back. “Stop complaining and help me dress it!”

 

It took them ten minutes to gut and dress the buck, Bumi stringing the young deer up on the rocks for butchering whilst Azula prepared a fire. A heated rock provided the plate and soon the backstrap was sizzling merrily away whilst Bumi began heavily salting the rest.

 

“Up here in the cold it should last us a few days.” Bumi held out his knife for Azula to pour hot water over it. “But we’ll need to hunt again before the end of the week if we’re really not going back to the cave.”

 

“There’s no need to,” she said. “There was plenty of sign on the main trail when we crossed it. A hunting party went back up no less than two days back. We’ll be able to follow it up in half that time. I’m anticipating that their main camp will be in one of the higher valleys near where the hot springs keep it warm the whole year round.”

 

“You still haven’t told me how we’re meant to defeat hundreds of bloodthirsty cannibals,” he said.

 

“Simple plan, really,” she said. “I burn all of them, you watch my back with a sword and prevent anyone from sneaking up behind me.”

 

Bumi paused. “That’s your whole plan?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“The entire thing?”

 

“Pretty much.”

 

“No offence, but weren’t you meant to be some kind of expert tactician?” He said. He made a gesture towards the north. “You’re the woman who took Ba Sing Se practically single handed.”

 

Azula cut the backstrap in half and began coating it with the last of her spice jar. “First, I had Mai and Ty Lee, plus a small army of Dai Li at my disposal. Second, I was competing against the Avatar, his companions, the Earth Kingdom high command and the Royal Guard. Far more dangerous opponents than anyone the cannibals can muster.”

 

Bumi finished wrapping the salted meat away and sat down opposite the fire. Azula passed him a stone plate laden with meat. He popped a still sizzling chunk in his mouth and began to chew around it. “Even if that’s true, I still think you’re leaving too much to chance. The witch said I was your instrument of vengeance, right?”

 

“Right.”

 

“Well you hardly need me for my fighting skills. Maybe she meant that I would come up with a plan to help you do it without dying?” He offered.

 

Azula frowned. “That’s a stretch of logic.”

 

“Call it a leap based on my intuition. Trust that I’m making this analysis based on consideration of every available factor. It’s something I do.”

 

She arched an eyebrow and he hastily corrected: “Most of the time.”

 

Azula chewed her own portion thoughtfully. “Alright then, Mister Tactician. We’ll do it your way. Walk me through it.”

 

“…it?”

 

“Your plan?”

 

“Oh….I…uh…” Bumi rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t think I have one yet.”

 

She steepled her fingers beneath her chin and gazed at him expectantly. Bumi suddenly felt like she was holding out another broom. “Not a complete one, at least. Direct confrontation won’t work. Too much chance we’ll be outflanked and overwhelmed. What we need is to use the terrain and mobility in our favour, pick them of in small, manageable groups. You could kill every warrior and raider they have over weeks without any risk.”

 

“Just the warriors?” Azula said. “You think they’re the only ones who eat human flesh in that tribe?”

 

“They’re the only ones that kill to get it.”

 

“And you think that makes them ‘innocent’?”

 

Bumi wolfed down another slice of venison. “I think it makes them ‘not our problem’. How long are greybeards, old women and children going to last up here in the mountains without their hunters and warriors?”

 

That gave Azula pause. “They could go down into the low country?”

 

“Then they get found by the locals, the older ones get put to death for cannibalism and the children get absorbed into the villages. The tribe disappears as surely as if you’d killed them yourself,” Bumi said. “With a lot less effort involved.”

 

Azula laid down her plate and stood up. “I’ll be honest, I rather liked the idea of killing them all myself. It’s simple, it’s easy to set up and it’s worked so well in the past.”

 

Bumi gave a shrug as he finished his food. “It’s your show. I’d just rather be alive to enjoy my revenge. Don’t know about you, though.”

 

Azula narrowed her gaze. “You’ve got a habit of turning everything I say back on me. Afraid to disagree with my directly?”

 

“Should I be?”

 

“Hmm.” She frowned. “I think you’re too smart for your own good.”

 

“You’re not the first person to say that to me,” Bumi said. He offered her a grin as he shouldered his pack. “I’m just trying to stay useful.”

 

She snorted. “You don’t need to worry about that anymore. I never kill my friends.”

 

“Oh we’re friends now? I guess I didn’t realise it over the thinly veiled death threats, brutal instruction in swordplay and idle suggestions about how to trim my hair so I don’t look like a ‘Water Tribe peasant’.”

 

Azula pulled her own pack over her arms. “That was just pleasant banter to pass the time. Honestly, your father took a lightning bolt with less fuss than you take a joke.”

 

“Uh huh. Well maybe you should _banish_ me then?”

 

“Don’t push it.” She warned.

 

They had to stop talking anyway, the climb back to the main trail being steep and indirect. Bumi had fashioned two sturdy walking sticks, both of which were needed for one to help the other climb the more vertical avenues. It was hard going, but they’d worked out an easy and efficient rhythm in their preparatory expeditions towards the end of winter.

 

That wasn’t the only thing which had occupied their time. With the weather growing warmer and remaining food stocks quite plentiful, Azula had started herself and Bumi on a rigorous calisthenics program. Bumi, no stranger to exercise after boot camp, had found himself flat out doing hand-stand push ups, one legged squats and prone holds until his stomach ached. Afterwards, they drilled and sparred with both sword and fist, Azula incorporating firebending iterations to vary the threat.

 

 _“You need to learn how to fight benders properly, anyway.”_ She’d snapped.

 

In the evenings Azula had shown him how to stitch together a sturdy buckskin jacket and trousers, then fitted him for a proper fur coat. It had taken many needles and dozens of muttered curses, but eventually Bumi looked as much a part of the mountain as Azula. Bumi’s body lost the flab of idleness and his muscles regained their former power. Azula’s somewhat sluggish movements after the inactivity of winter became as crisp and sharp as a razor’s edge, both of them now in prime physical condition, well-fed and well-exercised before winter came to end.

 

They made an odd pair, trailing up the side of the mountain. Hardly anything could be seen of their faces, wrapped as they were in woollen masks and with their hoods pulled low. Save that Bumi was taller and broader and bore the bow in addition to Azula’s spare sword, there was hardly a way to tell them apart at a middling distance.

 

Soon enough they were back at the cave and loading up the goat-mule. It took almost an hour to lead him down to the main track, but they were soon moving up along the ridge along the foothills of the Spire. Half a day’s travel saw them far enough along that Azula decided to call a stop for the day. Bumi scouted the cliffs until he found a shallow cave with shelter from the wind. By now their routine was as smooth as water over rock. Azula built the fire whilst Bumi unloaded and fed the goat-mule.

 

Bumi studied her as they worked. He’d been doing that a lot since the beginning of their acquaintance, from the earliest days in the cave through to the last days of her brutal training. It was strange, but he couldn’t recall if Uncle Zuko had ever spoken a bad word about his sister. _“She’s a troubled person,”_ he had told Bumi. _“My earliest memories of her are sweet ones. Back before ambition twisted my father’s soul and hardened his heart. She loved to chase butterflies in the garden. One time she fell into the pond chasing them. It seemed to me that Father leapt the whole length of the yard to dive in to get her out. Mother and I laughed ourselves silly at the look on his face when he walked out with his robes soaked.”_

Aunt Toph and Uncle Sokka had been less generous.

 

_“Quite crazy.”_

_“Absolutely nuts.”_

_“It always felt so personal when she tried killing us. Like we’d personally offended her in some way.”_

 

Uncle Zuko never tried to correct them. _“I just hope that she’s happy. Wherever she is.”_

 

 _“Uh huh.”_ Aunt Toph shuddered. _“I just hope that she stays there.”_

 

It had been years, two and a half decades perhaps, since any of them had seen Azula to the best of Bumi’s knowledge. He remembered the frightening stories of his childhood all too well, but he saw neither monstrosity nor sweetness in his saviour-turned-master/revenge partner. He saw strength, certainly, and occasional glimpses of instability. But nothing like what Mom had described.

 

“I’ve begun thinking about what we’ll do after we finish killing the warriors.” Azula’s sudden announcement startled Bumi out of his thoughts. “I think we should go east after we clear the mountains, not north straight away.”

 

“What’s in the east?” Bumi said. He began retrieving the makings of the evening meal.

 

“The Si Wong Desert.” Azula said. “I go there every few years to see if Wan Si Tong has brought his library back to the mortal world. It’s a bit soon for my next visit, but it would be a fair bit easier negotiating the desert and the sandbenders if I had a partner with me.”

 

“How much easier?”

 

“I might not have to kill three or four of them just to get them to take me seriously.”

 

It made sense, but something about the whole request puzzled him. “Why do you want to visit Wan Si Tong’s library in the first place?”

 

“It’s on the list,” she said as if it explained everything.

 

“The list?”

 

Azula tapped the side of her head. “Places I want to see before I die. Everything from the Forgotten Islands of the North to the Spirit Forest of the South. Right now I’m doing the Foundations of the World and the Spire of the Old Gods.”

 

“I thought this was a revenge trip?”

 

“I believe in efficiency,” Azula said. “Which is why we will also be collecting on a substantial gambling debt owed to me by the son of Chief Mitsuo when we venture into the desert.”

 

“How long have you been waiting to collect that debt?”

 

“Ten years, give or take.”

 

Bumi laughed. “You can hold a grudge for a while, huh?”

 

Azula grinned back. “You have no idea.”

 

“Hey. Since I call your brother ‘Uncle Zuko’, can I call you ‘Auntie Azula’?”

 

“You start calling me Auntie Azula and I’ll flame-punch you in the throat.”

 

Bumi raised his hands in surrender. “Now who can’t take a joke?”

 

Azula sighed. “There are times when I question why I even bothered stringing those logs across that river.”

 

“I…” Bumi paused. “Nevermind.”

 

“Spit it out.”

 

“I was about to ask the same thing. What was it that made you run out those logs? You’re a practical woman, why would you listen to a vague prophecy from a swamp witch? For that matter why didn’t you just wait until spring to cross the mountains from the North? And why did you wait all those months by a river for something that might never have shown up?”

 

Azula remained silent. Bumi continued. “For that matter, why not kill me as soon as you found out who I was? You said I was talking about ‘Uncle Sokka’ and ‘Aunt Toph’ in my sleep for days. I’m the child of your greatest enemies but you didn’t kill me on the spot? I don’t understand.”

 

“You wound me, Bumi,” she said. Her sudden reply surprised him. Any time he tried prodding her she simply closed up or lashed out. “Assuming I’m so petty as to hold onto a childhood grudge for twenty five years.”

 

“You’ve held onto a gambling debt for ten.”

 

“Fair point,” she admitted. “But if I search my feelings, I find that I hold no more antipathy in my heart for the Avatar and his peasant bride than I do for all mankind. That extends to their offspring by inclusion.”

 

Reaching out, she gave the fire an extra burst of heat. The stew bubbled in response and she sniffed at it hungrily. “It’s all about accounts, Bumi. Everyone has a ledger and everyone must pay what they owe. I paid your father pain and your mother defeat beneath Ba Sing Se, when that lightning bolt lit him up like a candle. In turn I was repaid pain and humiliation when I was defeated in the Royal Capital. Zuko and I have likewise made our exchanges of suffering and mercy. I conquered a kingdom and lost one in turn. Betrayed and received betrayal. The accounts are settled to my mind.”

 

“And you’ve really just wandered the world for twenty five years?”

 

“Is that so strange? Did you not remain with the United Forces in order to see the world with your friends?” Azula kicked back on a rock. “Besides, I have not always been on the move. Mastering the sword took three years alone. And you would not believe how much time one can waste trying to learn fire-sculpture. My next plan was to try and access the Spirit World. That should occupy at least another ten years.”

 

“So that’s your plan for the rest of your life? Wander the world and die alone?”

 

“Not the whole of it. I suppose I’ll stagger back to the Fire Nation someday when I’m old and grey and worn like a rag doll. I’ll spend my last few years in the lap of luxury doing what I love most: making Zuko’s existence as painful as possible. Oh, and frightening his grandchildren. I think it will be great fun.”

 

Bumi finally saw it. “I can’t believe it,” he laughed. “It’s been staring me in the face this whole time. You’re _lonely_ , aren’t you? That’s why you want me to come with you to the Si Wong desert. You want someone to talk to for the trip.”

 

She looked at him like he’d grown a third head. “Have you been eating those mushrooms from the lower slopes again? I warned you after what happened last time…”

 

“Azula alone.” Bumi repeated. “And the one person she asks to tag along is the child of the woman who defeated her. I don’t know if that’s comedy or tragedy.”

 

“It’s irritating me, that’s for sure.” Azula began to dish out the stew. “Eat. We’re leaving before dawn.”

 

Bumi was chewing on his first mouthful when she spoke. “Although…it’s not such a bad idea, is it? You and me, wandering through the Earth Kingdom? Earning a living fighting bandits and wild animals? I don’t mind making a few repeat trips to show you some of the marvels I’ve seen.”

 

“As what?” Bumi chewed the offer over. “Your partner?”

 

Azula held up a hand. “Partner? Hardly. Apprentice, maybe? Servant would be better.”

 

“Partner.” Bumi challenged. “Junior partner. Forty percent of all profits. And our first stop has to be somewhere with a telegraph office so I can tell my family I’m alright.”

 

“Thirty percent of all profits.”

 

“Thirty five and I also get first pick of any loot we collect.”

 

“Done.” Azula clapped. “I didn’t think I’d get you so cheap.”

 

“There’s a cost.” Bumi warned.

 

“Of course there is,” Azula said wearily. “What is it?”

 

“If we’re going to be partners then we’re going to need to be honest with each other, not dodging around avoiding saying what we mean.” Bumi pointed out. “You need to start being upfront when I ask questions. Not fending me off and redirecting whenever I get too close to the mark.”

 

“That’s all?” Azula looked shocked. “Here I’d thought you would actually want something difficult. Like me agreeing to reconcile with Zuko.”

 

“Would you?”

 

“Probably not.”

 

“No point in asking then, is there?”

 

Azula looked impressed despite herself. “Maybe you’re starting to know me after all. Tell you what, you can ask me one question right now. Any subject, any time frame. Ask me and I’ll answer completely honestly. On my honour.”

 

Bumi had to think about it. He had to think for a long time. There were so many idle questions about her that bounced around his head all day and went unanswered and then forgotten about. Now that he had the chance to ask he couldn’t remember any of them. They’d washed the pot and settled down on their bed rolls by the time he’d finally thought of a good one.

 

“How come you’ve never given the goat-mule a name?”

 

Azula frowned. “That’s the question you picked? Out of all of the…alright, fine, fine. I said any question. But I’m afraid that you’re wrong. I did give him a name. He’s a stubborn beast. Obstinate past the point of good sense. Not terribly intelligent. His name was obvious, really.”

 

She rolled over. “I called him Zuko.”

 

**-TLoB-**

 

As always, dawn saw them already fed, packed and on the move.

 

“Trail’s stronger than I’ve ever seen it.” Azula to deep footprints in the muddy slush. “They were loaded up. Must have sent a foraging party down even before winter ended.”

 

Bumi was incredulous. “They can do that? We nearly died climbing up and down a hundred yards and they can make it over the ridges?”

 

Azula shrugged. “If I had lived in these mountains since I was a child, I’m sure I’d have figured out how to safely traverse it during the winter.”

 

Bumi just grunted. The trail had steepened over the last few miles and breathing was difficult even after months of acclimatising to the thin air. Three days of walking matched by three nights of poor sleep in whatever cave or overhang they could find. Always pursuing the trail, always pressing on. Azula seemed confident they were getting closer. To Bumi’s eyes it just looked like an unending line of melting snow. Every time he raised that point he received only a knowing smile and gesture onwards.

 

Zuko the goat-mule just trudged along next to them with stoic indifference.

 

After another breakfast of seared venison and dried fruit, Bumi found himself daydreaming about warm caves and carefully prepared meals. The winter had not been luxurious, but it had been comfortable. If Azula had similar thoughts she didn’t share them, but he had caught her staring forlornly at the empty pouch as the last of her pepper vanished into last night’s stew. But she was committed to her hunt. And now, liked it or not, so was Bumi. Koga had died thousands of leagues from home in excruciating pain. He’d been Bumi’s friend and responsibility, so that meant responsibility for seeking justice fell to him.

 

He shifted his pack and kept marching.

 

When Azula stopped to examine the tracks for the tenth time in an hour, Bumi finally broke his silence. “What are you looking for?”

 

Azula frowned at his tone but answered anyway. “It’s the tracks. Do you see them?”

 

“I see a lot of holes in the snow.”

 

“That’s what worries me.” Azula pushed her hood back. The icy wind had gotten in her eyes, giving them a strained red tinge. “The cannibals use snow shoes to get over the ridges. Even in summer there’s usually enough snow to make it hard going otherwise. Whoever came through here was wearing normal boots. They had to wade through this slush in parts. Must have taken them hours.”

 

Bumi could deduce the obvious. “We’re not alone up here.”

 

“No we are not.” Azula agreed. “I don’t like this. These tracks are less than an hour old and the path up ahead has high ground on both sides. We’ll leave Zuko back here. You take the right slope and get as high as you can with the bow. I’ll take the left and work my way through those rocks. If there is an ambush I want to face it on level ground.”

 

“Agreed.” Bumi unslung his bow. “What if there’s too many?”

 

“I’ll signal a retreat with a lightning bolt. We’ll pull back to Zuko and bolt back down the path until we can find somewhere to make a stand.” Azula paused. “Bumi…if you see me go down, just run. Take Zuko and find your way back to the coast. No rescue missions, no revenge plots. You’re a mediocre swordsman despite my best efforts and I don’t want your death on my hands.”

 

“You really know how to build up my confidence.”

 

“I thought I was being nice.” She took off up the left slope at a low run. Bumi did the same on the right.

 

He spotted an ideal perch about ten yards beneath the peak of the ridgeline. With bow in hand and quiver loaded with stone tipped arrows, he was confident of dispatching any small force that tried to climb up at him. Behind him he could see Azula work her way through the rocky outcropping that bordered the ravine. She had a long dagger in her hands instead of Space Sword, but Bumi doubted that would make a difference to the fate of any cannibal she encountered.

 

Reaching his perch, he laid out a handful of arrows in front of him. He could now see enough of the right slope to be confident that there were no enemies hiding in the dispersing snow. Azula, on the other hand, could have been fighting an army and he wouldn’t know. He kept an arrow nocked, staring down over the rocks. Soon enough Azula appeared, unscathed and unbloodied to his eyes. She gave him a brief wave, then headed upwards towards the crest of the far hill.

 

“What are you playing at?” He murmured. Azula was crawling now, snaking her way up to the edge to get a peak. He didn’t know if she succeeded or not, only that the next second she was sprinting back down the hill, waving furiously at him. Sensing the urgency, Bumi half-ran, half-slid down the slope and jogged up the next one to greet her.

 

“You’re not going to believe this,” Azula said. “Come with me.”

 

Bumi understood her amazement when he reached the top. “Spirits…” He breathed. “What happened here?”

 

It was like staring into a different world. A streak of green cut through the white of snow and the grey of stone like an angry wound. Steam rose from natural vents in the floor of the wide valley beneath them, a warmth they could feel even on the ridge looking down. Various gardens and orchards were clustered together at the far end of the valley. On the widest part of green were six great longhouses with walls of stone and roofs of wooden planks. A natural refuge from the harshness of the Foundations. A paradise in a wasteland.

 

Or would have been if not for the fire, the smoke and the stench of blood.

 

A battle had taken place on the slope below them, birds already picking at the corpses of armoured men and women. Some were clad in green tunics and uniform armoured vests. Most wore the leather, furs and garish jewellery of the mountain tribes. Whatever fight had taken place had been more of a massacre, with the green clad attackers armed with pikes on the high ground and the cannibal warriors charging up to greet them with axes and clubs. But the slaughter hadn’t stopped there.

 

On the valley floor a dozen skirmishes were still raging as groups of armed men set fire to the longhouses. Bearing torches they ran from building to building, burning every structure that still stood. From out of the flaming structures ran those who had hidden rather than fight. Greybeards and old women, the sickly, the young. Out of the fire. Into the pikes. It wasn’t a battle. It was a reaping.

 

Azula began moving. “Come on. We won’t learn anything up here.”

 

They picked their way over the battlefield, Bumi pressing a hand to his nose at the smell. Azula picked up on it. “Never seen a proper battlefield, Bumi? Not as clean and pretty as a naval engagement I’d wager.”

 

Bumi didn’t trust himself to speak. Azula continued. “I’ve always found the stink just after they die to be worse than rot. At least with the rot you know they’re meant to smell like that, all swollen and bloated and disgusting. But right now most of them could be sleeping after playing with red paint. It’s the smell that makes it real. Guts freshly sliced open, brains still seeping out of their skulls, and of course most of them foul themselves as they’re dying.”

 

“How many battlefields have you seen?” Bumi finally forced out.

 

“A proper one? Two. Rival governors settling their differences about a decade ago. Fought as a firebending mercenary named ‘Ursa’ for Governor Li and then for Governor Shong. There was about three thousand left dead after both of those battles. I must have spent a week on double pay burning the bodies.”

 

“Delightful.”

 

“No. It wasn’t.”

 

As they approached the line where the snow ended and the grass began they were challenged by a half-dozen sentries.

 

“Halt!” The lead man extended his pike. “What’s your business here?”

 

“I’m guessing the same as yours.” Azula pulled back her hood. “Who’s in charge here?”

 

“Colonel Kokejin.” The guard replied. “Are you from this tribe?”

 

Azula’s glance could have melted the hapless man. “Do I look like a mountain dwelling primitive to you?”

 

When he seemed unconvinced she sighed. “Perhaps neither of us wearing bone necklaces also gives it away?”

 

“Oh…” The guard glanced to his left and right and found no support. “In that case…you’d better come see the colonel.”

 

They were lead to a canopy that had been strung between two trees. Beneath it, half a dozen men and women in neat battle dress were clustered around a table laden with maps. A tall woman with iron grey hair seemed to be directing things.

 

“Colonel Kokejin!” The guard hailed her. “These two travellers came up from our rear. I thought you might have questions.”

 

“Thank you, Corporal.” The woman didn’t look up from her maps. “Return to your post.”

 

Azula cleared her throat gently as the colonel continued to trace a line over the contours of the map. When the woman did not respond, Azula coughed. When this produced no result, Azula placed a finger in the centre of the map. A thin ring of fire began spreading from her fingertip. Only then did the officer look up.

 

“The Mad Hermit of the Spire, I presume?”

 

Azula gave a toothy grin. “And her junior partner.”

 

“You’re a hard woman to find,” Colonel Kokejin said. “My scouts must have scoured the foothills of the Spire for weeks trying to find your cave.”

 

Azula tapped the map. “They should have tried the upper slopes on the eastern face. A decent tracker could have found my trail no matter how well I camouflaged it.”

 

“Why were you trying to find us?” Bumi blurted out.

 

Kokejin barely spared him a glance. “I wasn’t looking for _you_ at all. I needed a guide over the mountains and intelligence on the fighting strength of the cannibals. Judging from the local sources, the Madwoman in the Mountains was exactly who I was after.”

 

“And yet you found your way here after all?” Azula gestured back up the slope. “And caught them by surprise?”

 

Kokejin grunted. “Half a dozen of my best scouts died falling into hidden ravines and unstable ridgelines. Lost thirty men to an avalanche before I even got into the main valleys of the Foundations.”

 

“Looks like you could afford it,” Azula said. “You must have brought five hundred men up here.”

 

“Just over six hundred, actually,” Kokejin said. “A company of regulars from Blackrock Harbour and four hundred volunteers from Fairweather Bay. General Yeo dispatched us from Blackrock just before winter to investigate the raids and murders in this region. We found the local population up in arms over the discovery of two bodies, a local fisherman named Sheng and young man in the remains of a United Forces uniform. Both were horribly mutilated, almost ritually dismembered and disfigured.”

 

Bumi flinched. Kokejin seemed not to notice. “I convinced the local council not to send all their able bodied fighters into the mountains. Instead my company spent the winter training a militia and stole a march on these savages before they could begin sending out hunting parties.”

 

Azula sighed. “Well…good job, I suppose. What’s going to happen to the survivors?”

 

Kokejin frowned. “My orders are clear on that point. Any members of raiding parties are to be put to death for murder. That was the easy part, most of their fighting age population met us on the slope. My orders regarding the children and elderly were less clear.” She grimaced as another scream rent the air. “The militia don’t seem to need orders.”

 

Bumi couldn’t stem his horror at the sights around them. “Why don’t you rein them in?”

 

“With what? Half my regulars were wounded on the hill, the other half are spread out in burning and looting,” Kokejin said. Bumi could make out dark circles under her eyes, a deep-seated exhaustion held at bay by iron discipline. She gestured to their own equipment. “From the looks of things you two were coming this way intending on violence.”

 

Azula spoke for them. “We’ve both lost people to these murderers. Figured it was time someone dealt with them for good.”

 

The colonel eyed Bumi with new interest. “Just the two of you. How daring. May I ask how an old woman and a young boy came to be wandering the mountains together?”

 

“She fished me out of a river.” Bumi pointed to Azula, still sputtering at being called ‘old’.

 

Azula sighed. “It was a little more…forget it. It’s a long story about a stay in a winter cave and some very dull conversations about wall decorations.”

 

“I’m sure,” Kokejin said. “Well, it’s none of my concern if you take a lover half your age…”

 

It was Bumi’s turn to sputter.

 

“…but in the future I’d suggest joining forces with a larger group if you’re planning on going to war.” Kokejin began rolling up her maps. “You’re welcome to head back south with us. There’ll be a week of feasting to celebrate the occasion, I’m sure.”

 

“Thanks, but we’re going north.” Bumi cut off Azula. “And then East. To the Si Wong desert, in fact.”

 

If the colonel cared, she did not show it. “It makes no difference to me where you go. But there’s one thing I do need to know from you, boy.”

 

Bumi didn’t mean to bristle. “And what is that?”

 

“The one in the uniform. What was his name?”

 

His eyes fell. An echo played at the edge of his hearing, a youthful voice sobbing its last breath. “Koga. Private Koga of the frigate _Waverider._ ”

 

“I’ll have the inscription on his grave altered when I return. Perhaps a ship will be able to take his remains home,” her tone did not change, but her eyes bored into his skull. “Take some free advice, boy, and do the same.”

 

 _“And do what?”_ He wanted to ask. _“Tell the mothers and fathers of my friends how I survived but their children did not? Tell Hanzo’s father how his son burned as I fell overboard?”_

He bit back on his anger. Azula was already looking fidgety, surrounded as they were by armed soldiers. It was time to go.

 

“Home can wait,” he said.

 

Kokejin gave him a blank stare, then looked back to Azula. Finally she shook her head. “Something is telling me I should drag you both back to Blackrock in chains. But I’ve no reason to arrest you other than a clear lack of good sense.”

 

“If you could arrest people for that, no jail in this world or the next could hold the convicts,” Azula said.

 

Kokejin didn’t reply. She gestured to a nearby soldier. “Sergeant, take them to the far edge of the settlement and show them the path we discovered earlier.”

 

“Might we bathe in the hot springs before departure?” Azula looked longingly at the steam rising from the fissures. Kokejin frowned.

 

“You may not,” she said. “I have five hundred soldiers with their blood afire. I will not suffer two strangers seeking death walking amongst them any longer than is necessary. Go, now. If I see you on this side of the Foundations again I’ll drag you back to Blackrock and let the Chapter Master of the Dai Li sort out who you really are.”

 

Bumi made a quick dash back to collect the goat-mule. Before long they were well on their way up the valley path, walking under the shade of blossoming peach trees as the fires continued to burn behind them. Azula didn’t speak until the screams had faded away.

 

“I think that went quite well.”

 

From anyone else, such an odd statement would merit Bumi staring at them as if they had gone mad. Since he’d been reasonably sure that Azula was quite mad already, he simply quirked an eyebrow at her and awaited an explanation.

 

“Well, they did our work for us, if you think about it,” she said. “I hate admitting it, but there were quite a few savages dead on that slope. It would have taken us months to kill them all.”

 

“You’re taking this better than I thought you would.” Bumi continued to trudge along. His own thoughts were muddled between relief and disappointment. “You were set on vengeance. And wasn’t I meant to be…?”

 

“The instrument of my vengeance.” Azula snagged a peach of a tree and tossed it to him. “Yes, I’ve been puzzling over that one. I think there are two options. First, that you fulfilled the prophecy, but in an indirect way. The witch said you would be the instrument of my vengeance and would show me my destiny. If you hadn’t been responsible for the deaths of your friend Koga and that fisherman, Sheng, then the army would not have marched into the mountains. Therefore, you did fulfil my vengeance.”

 

Bumi flinched. “And the second?”

 

“That the witch was lying to me and I’ll have to go back to that swamp, retrieve the gold I paid her and burn her hut to the ground.” Azula said, peach juice flowing down her chin. “Haven’t decided yet. And anyway, I…”

 

She froze, her eyes swivelling over to the right as something ran between the trees. “Did you…?”

 

Bumi was already dropping his pack. “I saw it!”

 

They bounded into the grove, falling into pursuit of their quarry, a figure in furs and leathers and carrying an iron shortsword in his hand that bespoke violent intent. They herded him in, directing his path so that their prey could flee only toward the banks of the fast flowing river that ran through the grove. The cannibal reached the bank and hesitated for a precious second. A pause that cost him as Bumi tackled him from behind.

 

His triumph turned to ashes as the figure let out a childish scream.

 

“Well done, boy!” Azula said. “We’ve got him.” She kicked the figure in the side and they rolled over to reveal exactly what Bumi had feared.

 

It was a young boy, no more than nine or ten. Bumi’s own mind had played a trick on him once he saw the furs and the sword.

 

“It’s just a kid,” he said. The hand which had gone to his own sword returned to his side. “What should we do with him?”

 

Azula didn’t answer. Her eyes were fixed on something hanging around the boy’s neck. A tiny figurine of jade, strung on a chain of fine gold links. Her breath was shallow and her eyes had become chips of ice.

 

“Azula, what are you…”

 

With a harsh cry, Azula descended on the child, her fingers wrapping around his throat. “This does not belong to you!” Azula hissed. She tore at the gold chain. “It belonged to Chani, the baker’s wife. Hers, not yours!”

 

“Azula, stop!” Bumi finally tore her free. “He’s just a boy, he hasn’t killed anyone! His father must have…”

 

“His father must have torn it off Chani’s neck before he butchered her!” Azula circled to the right, bouncing on her feet like a wild animal. “I am owed blood. Owed it! The account is not settled!”

 

“They’re all dead. Everyone who hurt your friends is already _dead_.” Bumi protested. He held up his hands. “Come on, let’s just keep going north. Leave the boy, forget about him. We can just go north. As partners.”

 

“Get out of my way, boy!” The fire was in Azula’s hands.

 

She lunged. Bumi reacted on instinct, blocking her attack and flipping her over. She easily somersaulted on the fall and hurled the fire at him. It hit him square in the chest and threw him backwards, his leathers scorched and smoking. Twisting out of the way of her next attack, Bumi lashed out with a leg, kicking her square in her middle. The blow barely phased her, her next fire blast nearly catching him in the neck.

 

Bumi dived past her to snatch up the bow. He aimed and drew as he turned, the arrow almost hitting her in the shoulder before she twisted away. He grabbed for another arrow but Azula was already moving. The black tip of Space Sword sliced the bow in half, the next thrust grazing the side of his ribs as he evaded the killing blow.

 

His own sword flew into his hand, steel clashing against steel as he fended off a series of overhand cuts. Taking a wide stance he began to attack, clearing a space in front of him as Azula evaded the edge. She whirled low and struck at knee height, a move she’d ended a dozen rounds with before he learned how to jump and twist over the blade. He unleashed a counter that would have taken her hand off if she hadn’t dropped the hilt and pulled her hand out of the way. The handle dropped into her left hand and she rolled into a new attack that nearly hamstrung him.

 

Bumi backed off in a defensive stance, his shoulders heaving as his lungs burned. Azula followed him, the manic light that had always lurked behind golden eyes now shining brightly. Bumi played for time. “Good trick with changing hands on the move. I never saw you do that before.”

 

“I didn’t want you to know I could do it.” Azula kept changing her stance. It was impossible for Bumi to predict where she was going to strike. “Just in case. Always just in case. Just a little extra.”

 

Her form was flawless, unassailable. It wasn’t like sparring, where a mistimed thrust or daring step could lead to bruised knuckles and a sharp word. Her sword was aimed at his throat and she was fighting to kill.

 

 _And I’m not_. Bumi realised with a shock. He couldn’t. “I don’t want to fight you, Azula.”

 

“Want?” She said. “It’s not a matter of ‘want’. It’s never a matter of ‘want’. Accounts, Bumi, accounts are all that matter. I saved your life. You owe me life in return.”

 

Something turned in her eye, some glimmer of sanity floating above her rage. “Come on, boy. We’re partners, aren’t we? We’re going to see the world. Just stand aside!”

 

Bumi reset his stance. His voice cracked as he steadied his guard. “I can’t. Run, boy!”

 

The child threw down the sword and fled into the trees. Azula let out a piercing scream as she charged.

 

“Ingrate! Self-righteous fool!” She hacked high, then swung low in a kick that sent flames arcing toward his boots. “You’re just like the rest! Taking my kindness and throwing it back in my face!”

 

They locked swords, her spittle flying in his face as he recoiled from the savagery in her eyes. “Why do you all keep betraying me?”

 

The pattern of the blade’s path was familiar, the dance of footwork second nature. But his harsh master calling out his mistakes was gone. Her rage nearly paralysed him, the fear her scream struck in his heart numbing his limbs and slowing his feet.

 

Here was the mad killer who his mother had duelled under a blood red sky.

 

Here was the monster of his father’s nightmares.

 

Bumi’s breath heaved in lungs and his heart pounded against his ribs, a percussive drumbeat accompanying the symphony of steel. He tried a thrust and nearly lost his hand. He swung at her legs and nearly lost his head. He aimed a savage cut at her shoulder and felt an agonised sting as the edge of her blade sliced neatly into the skin above his eyes. Blood flowed into his left eye, blinding him on that side.

 

There were holes in her defence. He saw them clearly. Her rage had left her open and exposed as she swung at him with abandon, but his attacks were never fast enough to reach his intended target. His swordplay was good, but she was two decades more skilled. His youth and strength were no advantage against a wily foe attacking with all her hate. Not even in the thickest of the fight against Shan Yu had he been so outclassed, so filled with certainty that the next slash would be the one to end his life.

 

He was out of his depth, alone against a superior fighter. He gave ground, backpedalling away from the black edge of Space Sword, spinning his own blade in every defensive pattern he could remember until he was ankle deep in the river.

 

The river…

 

He gave more ground, stepping backwards under and away from the questing edge of her blade. Snarling and spitting, Azula was compelled to follow. She waded in deeper, her swings always just missing as he lured her out until they were both waist deep. Bumi waited until she was struggling to keep her footing in the fast flowing current and finally made his move. Dropping his knees, he slipped into the water as if he’d been born there. An easy flutter of his feet carried him exactly where he needed to go. When he came up he was right between Azula and the river bank.

 

The higher ground now his, the water protecting him from fire and his footing grounded, Bumi unleashed a string of attacks that forced Azula deeper. She fought back, struggling to keep her elbows clear of the river to maintain the momentum of her assaults. Now the fear shone in her own eyes, her advantages all nullified in this, an element in which Bumi could do everything but bend.

 

The water was ice cold and chilled him to the bone. It was as invigorating as the first time he’d stepped off the boat in the Southern Water Tribe and wanted nothing more than to play in the snow. His pains faded and his muscles thrummed with energy, the ferocity of his attacks increasing until Azula was the one with nicks on her hands and face. She tried desperately to fight through but it was an attack Bumi saw coming.

 

He sidestepped and Azula floundered. He deflected her blade and grabbed the back of her neck. With all his strength, Bumi forced her under and dropped his weight on top of her arm. She thrashed and fought until the water was white with foam, but Bumi did not release his grip. Her sword was trapped and without air she couldn’t bend. Her left hand clawed at him, but all she could do was cut at skin, the pain easy to ignore as the stream of bubbles coming to the surface began to slow.

 

She could hold her breath for a while, he would give her that much. But eventually the energy went out of her attacks, the frenzied lash of her arms and legs slowing and then coming to a complete stop.

 

He held on for an extra ten seconds, just in case.

 

The fight had gone out of her by the time Bumi hauled her up onto the shoreline. Half drowned, coughing and vomiting water, Azula was hard pressed to rise even to her hands and knees.

 

She shot him a hateful glance. “Defeated in water once again. Well played, boy.”

 

Bumi didn’t reply. His whole body coursed with the frantic energy of the fight, the red tinge at the edge of his vision pressing dangerously close. His fingers wrapped tighter around the hilt of his sword. Azula noticed.

 

“Well…the witch did say you would show me my destiny…” She murmured. “Make it quick, boy. I deserve that much.”

 

Bowing her head, she closed her eyes and waited. Bumi raised his sword. “My gratitude for all your lessons, Princess.”

 

The sword fell.

 

It clattered to the ground in front of Azula’s face. She stared at the steel with shocked fascination.

 

“The accounts are squared.” Bumi said. His voice was iron. “You saved my life. I spare yours. We’re even.”

 

Grabbing Space Sword from where it had fallen, he placed it into his sheath. The action seemed to awaken Azula. “That’s my sword, boy!”

 

“It’s my uncle’s sword,” he said. “Never yours. It’s time for it to go home where it belongs.”

 

He grabbed his pack and furs from Zuko’s back and got his feet back on the path. Azula’s voice chased him.

 

“You’ll never find your way over these mountains without me!”

 

“Follow the ridges north until I reach the main trade routes!” He shouted back. “I think I’ll manage.”

 

“Don’t you dare turn your back on me!” Azula screamed. “I saved you! _I made you!_ You hear me? Boy?!”

 

He didn’t answer.

 

“Bumi!”

 

He reached the top of the ridge. The voice was starting to fade already.

 

_“Bumi!”_

 

The sun shone on the white slopes of the Foundations. Beyond them, Bumi knew, lay Ba Sing Se and the way home.

 

_“Bumi, I’m sorry!”_

 

Faint wails echoed through the valley and rang in his ears for what felt like an hour before silence fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wraps up The Foundations arc. Right now I'm going through the list of things Bumi said he did and how I can work various arcs around them. I've already crossed out a few of my more ridiculous ideas (it involved him getting sucked into the Spirit World at one point), and I'm happy with how the next arc is looking.
> 
> Side note, I just got my hands on the first part of Turf Wars. Was anyone else spectacularly underwhelmed by it?


End file.
